


Peace for Our Time

by AngryPurpleFire



Series: Altered Destiny [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Revealed, Season/Series 05, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-11-27 19:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 91,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPurpleFire/pseuds/AngryPurpleFire
Summary: Merlin froze for several seconds before squinting at Arthur across the table. “I feel like I’m definitely misunderstanding the situation here.”Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I really don’t think you are.”“You want me to learn magic?”





	1. Destiny's Favor

Arc I: Destiny's Favor

 

Arthur had been especially quiet lately- which was concerning to say the least. There was no banter, no teasing. Something had happened, that Merlin knew for sure, but the king seemed less than inclined to talk about it. It wasn’t for any lack of effort on Merlin’s part. He had spent the good part of yesterday evening pestering the man, only to be left empty handed with the results.

 

Still. Arthur didn’t seem angry with him. Usually if there was something Arthur didn’t want to talk about, he would respond to Merlin’s efforts with frustration and more chores, but this time, Arthur seemed content to change the subject in an attempt to move on.

 

Merlin was about to breach the conversation again when Arthur finally spoke.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur said seriously, gesturing towards the seat across from him at the table. “Sit down for a moment. I need to speak with you.”

 

Merlin merely raised an eyebrow, looking down to the shirt he had just picked up off the floor. “I’m cleaning your room.”

 

“That can wait until tomorrow.”

 

Easy for Arthur to say. Putting this off until tomorrow would only increase his workload then. Merlin sighed and made his way over to the seat anyways. Perhaps now Arthur would finally tell him what was on his mind. Or maybe he just wanted to berate him for some forgotten task. The latter seemed far more likely.

 

“Edwin.” Arthur began, then stopped.

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “Edwin?”

 

“Edwin.” Arthur confirmed. “You remember him? The sorcerer physician who came to Camelot to heal Morgana?”

 

“Ah.” Merlin nodded once, still very unsure as to where this could possibly lead. It had been years since Edwin and neither of them had ever brought it up in that time. To mention it now was… a bit more than curious.

 

“You spent a lot of time with him when he was here, did you not?”

 

“Uh.” Merlin started. “A bit, yeah.”

 

Arthur clasped his hands together. “Merlin. Whatever we speak of here- it will not leave this room. Anything you admit to or confess… it will not be held against you in any manner.”

 

If possible, Merlin’s eyebrows rose even higher. Confess? What was Arthur accusing him of? Did he… “I didn’t know what Edwin was planning. If I thought he was going to try to kill the king, I would have told you.”

 

“I know.” Arthur placated. “I know.”

 

Merlin shook his head slightly. “I don’t understand. What’s this about then?”

 

“I’ll get to that.” He supplied. “I just need you to tell me the truth. I don’t care if you broke the law. It was many years ago, but I need you to tell me the truth. Can you do that?”

 

It took Merlin a moment to close his gaping mouth. The truth about what? If this was about his magic, then why bring up Edwin of all people? After a minute, Merlin realized he still hadn’t answered the question. “Yes.” He cleared his throat, nerves beginning to overwhelm him. “Yes, I can…”

 

“Good.” Arthur replied, unconcerned. “Were you aware that Edwin showed interest in having you as his apprentice once he took over Gaius’s position?”

 

Merlin thought back, shaking his head. “No. I don’t believe so.”

 

Arthur nodded. “Well, he did. Knowing what we do now about him, it was not unlikely that he had intended on teaching you magic as well.”

 

Merlin’s mouth opened slightly. “Oh.”

 

“Yes.” Arthur replied. “Now… did you know of Edwin’s magic before it was revealed to the rest of us?”

 

Merlin’s breathing quickened, and he didn’t know how to respond.

 

“Like I said.” He continued when Merlin didn’t speak. “Nothing you admit to here will be held against you. I just need the truth.”

 

Merlin waited another long moment before nodding slowly. “Yes… I did. But I thought he was harmless. If I knew he was behind Morgana’s illness to begin with…”

 

“Your intentions are not in question, Merlin.” Arthur interrupted his rambling. His voice was firm but not unkind. He didn’t appear to be upset by Merlin’s response. If anything, Merlin’s answer seemed to only confirm his prior suspicions. “I am not assuming any malice on your part. You were young. You would have been easy to manipulate. I can assure you, I never once thought you meant any harm to anyone in Camelot.”

 

Merlin was calmed slightly by his words.

 

“With that in mind…” Arthur continued. “Did Edwin ever attempt to teach you any magic?”

 

Merlin wasn’t quite sure what the answer was, to be honest. They never had any proper lessons or anything, but he did show him some spells. “A little, yes.”

 

“Did he succeed?”

 

That. That was the question, wasn’t it? What a roundabout way of asking? Did you succeed? All that translated to was ‘Did you use magic?’ All of Merlin’s instincts had him wanting to lie- to claim that he had never used magic in his life. It would be safer that way. Arthur didn’t need to know. Arthur would never know.

 

But he said he wouldn’t lie, and because of that and that alone, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 

“Yes.”

 

This brought a small look of surprise to Arthur’s face- as if he didn’t believe Merlin was capable of doing magic. How wrong he was.

 

“Edwin…” Merlin continued. “He showed me how the beetles worked- the ones he used on Morgana and Uther. He taught me the spell to bring them to life and control them. And I...” He took a breath. “I used the beetles on Uther. To reverse what Edwin had done.”

 

“You used magic on my father?” Arthur asked, and Merlin tensed. “You healed him?”

 

Merlin fought the urge to clench his eyes shut, but Arthur, once again, did not seem upset by the implications. Merlin nodded once, and Arthur’s eyes roamed over him.

 

“Merlin.” He began, reaching an arm towards him. Merlin flinched away without thinking, making Arthur pause. “It’s alright, Merlin. You’re not in any trouble.”

 

Merlin shook his head, a smile crossing his face despite the situation at hand. “I just admitted to the King of Camelot that I’ve used magic. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little on edge.”

 

Arthur pulled his arm back, watching Merlin with caution before he finally spoke. “Go on home for the night. You look like you’re about to faint.” A teasing tone took over his voice towards the end, and that did more to placate Merlin than anything else had.

 

“What’s this about, Arthur? You can’t just leave it at that.” Merlin pleaded.

 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Arthur promised. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry so much.”

 

Merlin wanted to push it further. He wanted to give an excuse to stay. Arthur wasn’t dressed for bed. He hadn’t finished his chores. Anything to get an explanation for what was happening.

 

But the still remaining fear took hold, forcing him to only nod before evacuating the premise. What was this about? Did Arthur know about him? Did Arthur mean it when he said he wouldn’t be punished? Arthur wouldn’t lie to him about that, Merlin knew, but it did little to quell the anxieties.

 

What if Arthur fired him? Banished him? Executed him?

 

Merlin’s thoughts distracted him and before he knew it, he was standing in the doorway of Gaius’s chambers.

 

“Ah.” Gaius said upon seeing Merlin. “You’re home early. Arthur let you leave?”

 

Merlin nodded, not trusting himself to speak in that moment. “Gaius. I think Arthur knows.” He finally entered the room completely, shutting the door. “About me. I think he knows about me.”

 

Gaius set down the glass bottle of the potion he had been measuring out just moments ago, turning to look at Merlin completely. “What makes you think that?”

 

“He kept asking me all these questions about Edwin. He wanted to know if he had ever taught me magic.”

 

“And you denied it?” Gaius sighed when Merlin shook his head. “Why on Earth would you admit to such a thing?”

 

“He asked me to tell him the truth!” Merlin closed his eyes, slumping in a chair at the table.

 

“Well.” Gaius sat down next to him. “Did he give you an idea of what was going to happen next?”

 

“He said we would talk tomorrow, but I don’t know what that means!” Merlin gave a frustrated groan, covering his face with his hands. “I told him I used magic on his father. He didn’t seem angry, but he must have been. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“I suppose there isn’t much you can do besides wait and see. Unless you plan on trying to flee the city.”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “No. Not yet. I don’t think… he said he wouldn’t punish me, but that was before I admitted to having used the _‘dark arts’_.”

 

“We’ll just see what the morning brings.” Gaius placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Maybe things will work out for the best.”

 

Merlin just sighed, laying his head on his folded arms across the table. “Maybe.”

 

When Merlin awoke the next morning, he was half way to Arthur’s chambers with the king’s breakfast when he remembered what had occurred the night before. Even then, he wasn’t entierly sure if what he was remembering had actually happened, or if it was just some strange dream. It wouldn’t have been the first he’s ever had. The fact that Arthur was dressed and waiting for him when he arrived seemed to confirmed that it did indeed happen.

 

“You’re dressed.” Merlin said, placing the tray down on the table.

 

“Yes, Merlin.” Arthur replied as he began to walk towards the table. “How very observant of you.”

 

For a long moment, Merlin hoped that maybe Arthur had forgotten entirely about the conversation last night, only to be disappointed when the king gestured to the seat across from him. With a silent sigh, Merlin sat down in the empty chair.

 

“Have you eaten this morning?” Arthur asked, curiously off topic.

 

“Uh.” Merlin thought back to this morning. He had woken late and therefore had been rushed to get Arthur his meal. “No.”

 

“Join me, then.” Arthur nodded towards the food.

 

Merlin hesitated. It wasn’t terribly often that Arthur shared his meals with his servant. It wasn’t unheard of, so to say, but not common. If anything, Arthur seemed to only be delaying the inevitable. It was almost as if he was dreading the conversation as much as Merlin was, but, of course, Arthur had much less to fear from it.

 

“I’m aware that my father had asked Gaius on numerous occasions to perform magic despite the ban.” And they were off. “Did my father ever ask the same of you?”

 

Merlin shook his head, biting into a soft piece of sausage. Eating during this discussion was almost certainly a choking hazard, but that wasn’t exactly his greatest concern at the moment. “No. He didn’t know anything about me and… magic.” And if he had, he would have most certainly been killed. “But…” Merlin hesitated. If there was ever an opportunity to tell him, this was it.

 

“Yes?” Arthur pushed, leaning forward slightly. Merlin wasn’t sure whether he was doing it consciously or not.

 

“There were certain occasions where Uther had asked Gaius to do something that… that he couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough. So… I did instead. Uther just believed it to be Gaius.”

 

“Can you give me an example?” Arthur looked curious more than anything else.

 

Merlin had to think for a moment. “Morgana. When she fell down the stairs. Uther asked Gaius to heal her, but he couldn’t. So I did instead.”

 

Arthur leaned back as to think about this information. “There’s one thing I don’t understand, though. If Gaius couldn’t do it, why were you able to? Surely he would have had more practice in the area than you?”

 

Now he had done it. “Well.” Merlin began, clearing his throat. “From what I understand… some people are just… stronger than others. Some can practice magic for years and only grasps the basics while others can learn very quickly.”

 

“So you’re just stronger then?”

 

Was this a trick question? To get him thrown in the pyre? No. Arthur said he wouldn’t. Arthur never broke his word. “...yes.”

 

“How strong?”

 

To Merlin’s disbelief, Arthur still didn’t seem concerned in the slightest by his potential power. Even if he didn’t know the whole truth, he should still be a bit more… unsure? “Uh… very. Um. Very strong.”

 

“Not stronger than Morgana, though, right?”

 

Merlin’s eyebrows rose alarmingly. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t entierly true nor was it false. Morgana had far more opportunity to practice and use her magic openly, and that gave her the potential to be more dangerous. But as far as raw power goes, Merlin knew he trumped her. It all came down to perspective. “Arthur, please, what is this about?”

 

Now it was Arthur’s turn to hesitate. Merlin couldn’t help but notice how nervous he looked. Arthur _never_ looked nervous, but here he was, sitting across from Merlin, looking incredibly uneasy.

 

“A few days ago,” Arthur began, placing his hands on the table. “I pondered the possibility that we may not be able to defeat Morgana without magic of our own. She’s too strong, and she has too many followers. That being said, I don't like the idea of going out and finding a sorcerer to assist us.”

 

“What about the old man?” Merlin asked before he could stop himself, wincing instantly.

 

“I considered it.” Arthur admitted. “Perhaps he was truly trying to heal my father as Gaius had said, but I can’t trust him. I need to be able to trust this person.”

 

That hurt slightly. Of course, Arthur didn’t know the old man was him, but the lack of trust still burned. If he knew the truth, Arthur wouldn’t trust him either.

 

“The solution was to have someone I already trusted learn magic.” Arthur spared Merlin a glance. “You… were one of the first people that came to mind. You live with Gaius, therefore you’ve probably had more experience with magic than anyone else I could think of. Then I remembered Edwin, and I began to wonder if maybe he had tried to teach you anything…”

 

Merlin froze for several seconds before squinting at Arthur across the table. “I feel like I’m definitely misunderstanding the situation here.”

 

Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I really don’t think you are.”

 

“You want me to learn magic?”

 

“If the answer is no,” Arthur said firmly. “Then we will never speak of it again. We can pretend this conversation never happened. I am not ordering you to do this. I’m just… asking you to.”

 

“Right.” Merlin nodded once, leaning back in his chair. “Is this a test? Like… I agree to become your secret sorcerer and some guards pop out of the closet ready to drag me to the deepest reaches of the dungeon.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking this seriously?”

 

“Yes!” Merlin tried, crossing his arms. “I’m just… covering all the ground first.”

 

“Well I can assure you there are no guards in my closet.” Arthur said, gesturing towards the rest of the room. “Would you care to check?”

 

Merlin almost considered it before he remembered exactly what he was supposed to be agreeing to. “So… if I do this, what does that mean exactly?”

 

“It means you’ll be given access to the few magic books we have left in the restricted section of the library. Fortunately, Geoffrey managed to hide some during the purge. You’ll begin studying and learning what you can. I’m not expecting you to be able to best Morgana. I’m just hoping for something to give us an edge or take her by surprise at the very least.”

 

“So is this instead of mucking out the stables?”

 

“ _Merlin_.” Arthur sighed, obviously beginning to grow frustrated by Merlin’s tactics of avoiding the question.

 

“Sorry. Sorry.” Merlin took in a breath. “What about afterwards, though? After we defeat Morgana. What happens then?”

 

“It depends.” Arthur looked relieved to be back on topic. “If we both come to the conclusion that using magic hasn’t corrupted you, then we can talk about the possibility of revoking the ban. Whether or not you continue to practice is up to you. If after using magic, you believe it to be as evil as they say, then you will receive an official pardon, and you will stop practicing.”

 

This could lead to the end of the ban on magic. This could be it.

 

“I’m trusting you, Merlin,” Arthur spoke seriously. “To be honest with me during this process. If you begin to feel the magic changing you at all, you have to tell me. You have to stop. I won’t lose you to this.”

 

Merlin nodded rapidly. “Of course.”

 

“You don’t need to give me an answer now. Take a few days to think about it.”

 

“I’ll do it.” How could he not? How could he refuse this?

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to, I don’t know, think about it a bit more? This is a big deal, Merlin.”

 

“I know.” Merlin said genuinely. “It’s just, I really hate mucking out the stables. I’m going to take any excuse I can to get out of it.”

 

Arthur stared at Merlin, his mouth gaping, his features a mix of disbelief and fondness. He shook his head slowly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Merlin gave him a single nod. “Yes, sire.”

 

This was the beginning of something, and maybe, just maybe, it would lead to something great.

 

 


	2. Sensations of Evil

“Now.” Arthur began, leading Merlin towards the library. “You cannot tell anyone about this. As of now, magic is still illegal. You cannot be caught using it.”

 

“Naturally.” Merlin said easily.

 

“I don’t feel like you’re taking this very seriously.”

 

“I _am_ taking this seriously.” Merlin said defensively. To that, Arthur only scoffed. “I am, I swear!”

 

Arthur pulled open the door to the library, Merlin following close behind.

 

Geoffrey looked up as the king approached. “Sire.”

 

“Have you collected all the books?”

 

“Indeed, sire.” Geoffrey stood from his chair, unlocking the cabinet behind him. Merlin recognized several of the books inside immediately as books of magic. They were all moved to a long wooden table several feet away. There were six in total- all worn and covered in dust. There must have been far more before the purge, but now, this was all that was left. It was more than Merlin anticipated at any rate.

 

Merlin approached without being prompted, running his hand over the thick cover of the first book. He frowned at the touch, barely stopping himself from flinching away from it.

 

“What is it?” Arthur asked, apparently noticing his discomfort.

 

Merlin didn’t answer at first. He opened the top book, looking down at its contents. It felt… wrong. He wasn’t sure how exactly to describe it. Merlin shook his head, taking a step away from the table. “This is dark magic.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, this is dark magic.” He said, as if that explained it at all. “Can’t you feel it?”

 

The king shook his head. “This is different from normal magic?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin nodded once. “It’s just… dark. Evil.”

 

“Dark magic, sire,” Geoffrey interjected. “Was disapproved of even before the Great Purge began. It was said to corrupt and blacken the soul.”

 

“Why would you save these books then? Why give them to Merlin?” Arthur demanded.

 

“I did not know they contained dark magic.” Geoffrey replied calmly. “I never practiced the art, therefore I could not sense it as Merlin has. If I had known, I would have never presented them to you.”

 

Arthur seemed to accept the answer, turning back towards Merlin. “Is it just the one?”

 

Merlin pushed the top one aside, moving on to the one beneath it. He shook his head, looking through a few of the pages. “This one is, too.” He continued pulling through the books. Three of the six books were those containing spells of dark magic.

 

“Why would Camelot even have them?” Arthur asked, clearly frustrated.

 

“While frowned upon, dark magic was not forbidden.” Geoffrey explained. “Many found dark magic easier to use than normal magic. With a cost, of course.”

 

Merlin pushed the three books towards the far end of the table, the energy emitted from them making his head ache. Of the three books left over, one was far too damaged and faded to even read. Keeping them hidden for twenty years had obviously done them little good. One of the books left, Merlin noted, seemed to be in decent condition and had a variety of spells- though they were mostly harmless. The other had information on magic- lore, among other things- but no spells.

 

“So only two of these are even usable.” Arthur looked at the books laid across the table.

 

“I am sorry, sire.” Geoffrey said, seeming genuinely remorseful. “I wish I could have saved more, but I would have been executed if caught.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Arthur relented. “Thank you.” It was as clear of a dismal as anything else, and Geoffrey gave a short bow before retreating.

 

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, concerned slightly by the look on his face. “What are you thinking about?”

 

Arthur glanced up at him. “Maybe this was a bad idea. How are you supposed to learn if we don’t even have any books?”

 

“We have some books.” Merlin grabbed the one with spells, opening it for Arthur to see. “I mean, they aren’t going to be particularly helpful in a fight, but I can figure out those spells somewhere else.”

 

“Like where?” Arthur asked, shaking his head. “As much as I would prefer you to learn magic about growing flowers, I need you to be learning offensive spells. Or at the very least, defensive.”

 

Merlin glanced towards the three books on the far end. “I could…”

 

Arthur followed his gaze. “No. Absolutely not.”

 

“Some spells have got to be worse than others, right?” Merlin argued. “As long as I don’t touch some of the worser ones…”

 

“No.” Arthur said firmly. “I won’t risk it.”

 

Merlin nodded once, accepting the answer. He glanced at Arthur, who seemed deep in thought. Merlin couldn’t let him give up on this. This was the best chance he had had in a long time to prove that magic wasn’t evil. He wasn’t about to let it escape him. “Here. Come with me.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the order, before followed his manservant out of the library. Hopefully Geoffrey would notice their departure and lock the books away once more. The last thing either of them needed was for someone to walk in and see them laid out across the table. Though, in all fairness, It wasn’t likely that anyone would recognize them for what they were.

 

“Where are we going?” Arthur finally asked as they made their way down the stairs.

 

“Just.” Merlin started, glancing backwards. “Just trust me, okay?”

 

Arthur shook his head, and Merlin continued to walk towards Gaius’s chambers. This was a bad idea. This was a very, very bad idea.

 

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur asked, annoyance beginning to fill his voice.

 

Merlin ignored him, peeking inside the room. Gaius, fortunately, was nowhere to be seen. He would certainly not approve of what Merlin was about to do. “Come on.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes, entering the chambers. “It’s not like I’ve never been here before. What’s your point.”

 

“Shush.” At this point, Merlin was far too concerned with getting executed to care about whatever reprimand Arthur may have for speaking to him in such a manner. He lead him to his room, closing the door behind him.

 

“ _Merlin.”_

 

Merlin didn’t respond, hesitating for a long moment before reaching down and lifting the loose floorboard. He reached in, grabbing the magic book he knew to be hiding inside. He placed it in Arthur’s hands, wincing at the implications.

 

Arthur had gone quiet upon the hidden floorboard being revealed. He looked down at the book in his hands, opening it to see the clearly magical contents inside.

 

“I found it in Edwin’s chambers after he was… well… killed.” Merlin lied convincingly. There was no reason to get Gaius involved after all. “It’s how I knew how to heal Morgana.” Another lie, but explaining where he had actually gotten the spell would be far more complicated.

 

Arthur flipped through a few more of the pages. “Do you know if there are any spells that could be used against Morgana in here?”

 

“I think so.” Merlin said, acting as if he hadn’t read the book front to back several times over.

 

“I see.” Arthur glanced at a few more pages before handed the book back to Merlin. “Well, surely you’ve tried a few of these spells out once or twice.” Right. Only once or twice. Not hundreds of times. Not every day. “Show me one.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um. Okay.” Merlin flipped through the pages, searched for something simple and believable. “Right. Um.” Merlin held out one hand, closing it into a fist. _“Forbearnan.”_ His eyes glowed gold, and he opened his fist to reveal a burning flame.

 

Arthur looked surprised to see the use of magic despite asking for it only seconds before. “Well then.”

 

Merlin extinguished it quickly, letting his arm fall down to his side. “You don’t have guards hiding in _my_ closet to drag me away, do you?”

 

“So.” Arthur said, ignoring Merlin’s comment entirely. “We have a book. That’s good. But you aren’t keeping it here.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it’s only a matter of time before someone finds it.”

 

“I’ve had it here for years, and you’ve never found it.” Merlin argued, holding the book closer to him.

 

“Yes, but now you’ll actually be using it regularly. It won’t be hidden away for years at a time.” As if that book ever stayed hidden for more than a week. “You’ll keep it in my chambers and practice when you’re in there.”

 

Merlin thought on it for a moment, and his lips quirked slightly. “Does that mean I can use magic to do my chores?”

 

“As long as you don’t dent my armour.”

 

“Really?” Merlin asked, smiling fully now.

 

“You’ll need as much practice as you can get.” Arthur raised his hand to point accusingly at Merlin. “Just don’t get caught, alright? You’re not exactly inconspicuous.”

 

“Yes, sire.” Merlin responded before reluctantly handing the book back over to Arthur.

 

This wasn’t exactly how Merlin had imagined getting his magic book confiscated. He always thought it would involve a lot more guards and yelling and… well… death. A sword or two, just for good measure. Merlin had certainly not anticipated giving his book of magic to the King of Camelot so he could hide it for him. He hadn’t anticipated the king giving him permission- no, encouraging him- to use magic to complete his chores.

 

Arthur had always had a way of subverting his expectations though, so perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised.

 

“Well.” Arthur said, taking the book. “I’ll find a place to put this.” He glanced down to it in his hands. “Would anyone think this was a magic book if they saw me carrying it?”

 

“I think anyone who saw you would be far more bewildered by the idea of you reading than anything else.” Arthur responded to that by whacking the side of Merlin’s head with said book. “Oi! That’s fragile!”

 

Arthur looked it over, shrugging when there was no obvious damage. He opened the door back to the main room, looking at Merlin as he did so. “The only fragile thing here is you, I’m afraid.”

 

“Sire?” Both Arthur and Merlin admittedly jumped at the voice. Gaius had returned, and appeared visibly confused by the king’s appearance in Merlin’s room.

 

“Ah. Gaius. We were just…” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Merlin, tell Gaius what we were doing.”

 

Merlin turned to glare at the king before looking back towards Gaius. “We were… cleaning.”

 

Gaius didn’t seem overly concerned with their explanation, no matter how ridiculous it was. Instead, his eyes were locked on the book in Arthur’s arms. Arthur looked down, and Merlin’s eyes widened.

 

Arthur, once again, seemed to be unable to come up with an explanation. Merlin sighed, taking a step forward. “The king has asked that I learn magic in order to combat Morgana.”

 

Gaius raised an eyebrow, as if this explanation was just as ridiculous as the previous one.

 

Arthur seemed slightly irritated at Merlin for having told the man the truth, but sighed after several seconds. “It’s true.”

 

“...I see.” Gaius said, glancing at Merlin who shrugged half heartedly. It was clear from his expression that Merlin would have a lot of explaining to do. It wasn’t something Merlin was particularly looking forward to, but there was no escaping it.

 

“This is something that must remain confidential. I can trust you to keep this information to yourself?”

 

“Of course, sire.” Gaius answered diplomatically. His gaze never left Merlin though, and Arthur actually winced in sympathy.  

 

He reached his arm out to pat Merlin on the back. “Good luck.” He whispered loud enough for only Merlin to hear before nodding once towards Gaius and fleeing with the book in hand.

 

It seemed that, despite his rank, Arthur was still wise enough to fear a lecture from Gaius. _Smart man._ Merlin thought, reluctantly meeting Gaius’s eyes.

 

“Well. Heh. Where to start?” Merlin said, a tight smile crossing his face.

 

Gaius didn’t smile.

 

It would be a long night.


	3. The Light Within

“We’re going to go on a bit of a trip.”

 

“A trip?” Merlin looked up. Arthur’s armor was currently polishing itself, and Merlin was doing his best to make it look far more difficult than it actually was.

 

“Yes.” Arthur confirmed, watching the armor with a mix of amusement and left over concern. “We’re going to see the druids.”

 

Merlin’s concentration broke, and the armor clattered to the ground. He winced at the noise, sparing Arthur an apologetic glance. “The druids?”

 

“Yes, Merlin. The druids. Now are you going to repeat everything I say?” 

 

“Sorry.” Merlin mumbled. Why did they need to go to the druids of all places? They had been good in the past about not divulging his secret, but once they learned that Arthur knew about his magic, they might not be so tight-lipped- if only out of misunderstanding the situation. “Why the druids?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but knew he was probably failing.

 

“They are some of the few people in Camelot who might know a thing or two about magic. I want to speak to them.”

 

It was at this point that Merlin noticed the packed bag on Arthur’s bed. There would be no talking him out of this. “When are we leaving?”

 

“As soon as you’re ready.”

 

Arthur looked at him expectantly, and Merlin sighed. “Alright. Give me a minute.”

 

Merlin quickly made his way down the stairs are towards Gaius’s chambers. He wouldn’t need much. Though, of course, Arthur hadn’t told him how long they’d be gone for. Perhaps he should of asked, but it was too late now. 

 

What Merlin wasn’t expecting was to see Mordred standing in the middle of the room. He looked up upon Merlin’s arrival. 

 

“Mordred?” Merlin asked cautiously. 

 

“Merlin.” Mordred nodded, a hesitant smile crossing his face. “Sir Leon sent me to get a salve for bruises. I assumed Gaius would be here…”

 

Merlin reached towards one of the shelves, grabbing the container he knew held the salve, and placed it in the druid’s hands. 

 

“Ah. Thank you.” Mordred took the salve and headed towards the door. He hesitated at the entrance, looking back towards Merlin. “Do you know why Arthur questioned me on the location of druids camps in Camelot? I thought he didn’t… hunt them anymore.”

 

Merlin looked towards him briefly. “He has his reasons. He isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

 

Mordred looked a bit relieved at that, nodding. “Ah. Good. In truth, I wasn’t much help. It’s been many years since I’ve been with the druids, and they move their camps so often…”

 

“He seems to have found some without your help.”

 

“Is that where you’re going now?” Mordred questioned, noting the bag in Merlin’s hand. Merlin didn’t respond immediately, and Mordred seemed to take his silence for what it was. “I see. Well, I wish you luck with your journey.”

 

Mordred left the room, salve in hand, leaving Merlin to finish his packing. 

 

The druids, as it turned out, were far easier to find than Merlin anticipated. 

 

“How did you know where the druids were?” Merlin asked as they reached the entrance of the large cave. If Mordred was as unhelpful as he claimed, Arthur must have had other informants. 

 

“Patrols have seen evidence of them in the area. It wasn’t that hard to work out.” 

  
  
  


They walked into the cavern, stopping when a younger, hooded woman appeared. When she noticed them, she stopped to stare at the king- an undeniable look of fear in her eyes as she took a step back. 

 

Arthur raised his hands slowly. “I mean you no harm.” After a moment, he reached for his sword, pulling it from its scabbard and placing it on the rocks. “I just want to talk.”

 

The woman stood for a moment longer, looking between the two of them, before nodding and gesturing for the two of them to come farther into the cave. Merlin glanced back at the sword, unhappy to leave such a powerful weapon lying about, but there was no choice. It wasn’t as if he could grab it and bring it with him.

 

Arthur walked deeper into the cave, forcing Merlin to join him. The rest of the druids seemed equally shocked to see the pair of them but relaxed after a moment. 

 

“King Arthur.” An older man greeted as he approached the pair. This wasn’t a druid group Merlin had had any interaction with in the past, so he didn’t recognize anyone there. “We did not expect to see you here.”

 

“I understand.” Arthur nodded. “I have come in hopes of your help. I know you have no reason to offer me such-”

 

“On the contrary, young king.” The druid interrupted. “While we are not free, the druid people have been much safer under your reign than they had been during your father’s. We are forever grateful for that.”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment, but eventually continued. “You are of course aware of the war between Camelot and the sorceress Morgana. In order to combat her, I have entrusted the secrets of magic to my servant.” 

 

Merlin took a few steps forward after being prompted by Arthur. The man druid looked mildly amused for a moment, and Merlin could only assume it was because he knew the truth. The idea of King Arthur giving Emrys permission to ‘learn a bit of magic’ was… laughable, at best. 

 

“You wish to learn more from us, sire?” The druid finally responded, turning back to look at the king.

 

“Resources for magic in Camelot are… hard to find, and not particularly reliable.”

 

“We would be more than happy to teach him.” The druid continued. “But such things take time. He would be welcome to stay with us for however long is necessary.”

 

Merlin turned his head slightly towards Arthur, hoping the look he gave him communicated his message clearly enough.  _ You are not leaving me in a druid camp, so help me Arthur.  _

 

Arthur, to his credit, seemed to get the message. “While I am grateful for your hospitality, I’m afraid that isn’t an option.”

 

The druid nodded in understanding. “Of course.”

 

A pull on his pant leg made Merlin turn away from the druid leader and look towards the ground. A girl, perhaps three or four, shied away slightly at his attention. She quickly recovered, though. 

 

“Emrys?” The girl whispered, as if in awe of the man whose pants she seemed keen to keep tugging on. 

 

Merlin looked up quickly to see if Arthur had heard, but he seemed far too engrossed in conversation with the druid leader to have notice the small child that had approached. 

 

Slowly, Merlin crouched down until he was at her eye level. “Yes?”

 

“Will you use your magic, Emrys? Please?” The girl leaned forward slightly, and another child, a boy perhaps seven or eight, began to approach as well. 

 

Merlin’s first instinct was still to refuse, especially considering Arthur was less than three feet away from him. This whole ‘using magic thing in front of Arthur’ thing still made him incredibly nervous, but he would have to get used to it eventually. 

 

Merlin reached out a hand.  _ “Leoht.”  _ A bright light began to form there, which merely attracted the attention of more children. They seemed so in awe of such simple magic. It was almost as if they had seen very little of it in their lives. That seemed unlikely, considering they were druids, but with how dangerous it was to use magic in Camelot, it was a very real possibility. 

 

Merlin glanced backwards to look at Arthur and was surprised, if not a bit alarmed, to find the man staring at him wide eyed. 

 

“In truth, sire,” The druid leader said, a slight smile crossing his lips. “I’m not sure how much good we could do him. He seems to have picked up the art very quickly. I don’t believe he would benefit much from our guidance.”

 

Arthur nodded slowly. “Yes, of course.” He turned back to the leader. “Thank you for your assistance. We will leave you in peace.”

 

The leader gave Arthur a deep bow, and Merlin stood, walking towards his king. Many of the children seemed disappointed by his departure, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He was hardly going to stay, as the druid leader had proposed. 

 

The trip back towards Camelot was strangely silent, and concern began to grow in Merlin. He didn’t think using magic in front of the druids would be something Arthur would have a problem with. Was he wrong? Was he only to use magic when asked by Arthur? 

 

“Are you upset with me?” Merlin finally asked, his horse trotting along side Arthur’s. 

 

“No.”

 

“Well, it kinda seems like you are.” Merlin continued. “Is it because I used magic? I thought, well, since you already told them I was learning, that it would be okay.”

 

“It is.” Arthur shook his head. “I’m just not used to seeing you use it.” He glanced back at Merlin. “I… I don’t want to lose you to magic like I did Morgana. What if it changes you like it did her?”

 

“That won’t happen.”

 

“But what if it does?”

 

“Well.” Merlin pulled his horse forward. “If I do use magic to take over Camelot and steal the throne, I can promise you a position as my personal servant. That isn’t too bad, is it?”

 

Arthur turned towards him, some of the concern fading away. “Alright. The idea of you becoming an evil sorcerer  _ is  _ a bit ridiculous.” 

 

“Oi!” Merlin called out, mocking a look of offense on his face. “I could be an evil sorcerer. I’d be a great evil sorcerer. I could… you know… raise taxes to an unfair rate.”

 

“Ah yes. You would have all of Camelot quaking in their boots.”

 

“And don’t you forget it.”

 

A high pitch sound echoed through the air, startling both Merlin and Arthur.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I think it was a bird.” Merlin looked up towards the sky. The sound repeated itself, but this time it was far more clear. “That? That was definitely a woman screaming.” 

 

Arthur jumped down from his horse, sword in hand, and ran towards the noise.

 

“Why couldn’t it have just been a bird?” Merlin shook his head, also dismounting. “Never just a bird.”

 

Merlin ran forward to catch up with Arthur, and then passing him. 

 

“What are you doing?” Arthur called out.

 

Merlin looked back towards him. “I assume you want to risk our lives and see what’s going on.”

 

Arthur looked at him for a moment in moderate surprise. “I never thought I’d say this, Merlin, but you’re learning.”

 

The scene unfolding became clearer as they approached. An older woman was tied to a stake of wood, surrounded by sticks and hay. There was a man, clearly the leader of the village, holding a torch. Alongside him were numerous villagers- perhaps twenty or so, all ready to watch the woman burn. 

 

“Let the woman go.” Arthur called out as he approached the group. They all turned to look at him, clearly not recognizing him for who he was. 

 

“This woman has been sentenced to death.” The leader explained. “It does not concern you.”

 

“I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, and your village is in my lands.” The villagers looked at him in shock, clearly not expecting their king to be traveling so far out as to pass through their village.

 

“Her sorcery,” The man continued, not appearing to be intimidated by the presence of his king. “Has brought sickness and suffering to this village.”

 

Merlin turned to look at the woman. She was incredibly old and seemed harmless enough, but there was no way to know for sure. Morgana had seemed harmless once, too. As did Mordred. But no matter what she had done, a fiery death was not something he would wish upon anyone. 

 

“Did she receive a fair trial?” Arthur asked calmly.

 

“Your father would have shown her no mercy.” 

 

“I am not my father.” The calm exterior seemed to fade upon the mentioning of the previous king. It wasn’t clearly visible, but Merlin had known Arthur long enough to notice the slight clench to his teeth and the almost imperceptible change in his voice. “Now cut her down.”

 

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” The man refused. He moved to set the wood aflame, only stopped by the sword that was pressed against his neck. The other villagers backed away, whispering to one another. 

 

“I said…” Arthur’s voice was dangerously low now, and everyone seemed to notice. “Cut her down.”

 

The man glared furiously at the king for several seconds before dropping the torch to the ground. “She will not stay here in my village.”

 

“She won’t have to.” Arthur replied, removing his sword from the man’s neck. 

 

The man backed away. He still hadn’t untied the woman as requested, but Arthur didn’t seem willing to push this any further. Instead, Merlin walked around the group and began undoing the knots that held her to the stake. Her legs were unable to hold her up, so Merlin was forced to take most of her weight as they made their way away from the village. 

 

Arthur was clearly torn between trying to get as far away from the village as possible and stopping so that the woman could rest. They ended up going a decent distance away, but not as far as Arthur would have preferred had they been alone.

 

Merlin placed the woman down against the tree, and Arthur went to kneel down next to her. She was pale, and it seemed obvious, even to someone untrained in the healing  arts, that she was not long for this world. Merlin felt at her neck. Her pulse was there, but it was weak and thready. 

 

“Is there anything you can do for her?” Arthur asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

 

Merlin shook his head. “She won’t make it through the night.” Despite being saved, she would still die. At least she would be spared a death on the pyre. That was something, as Merlin knew, all those with magic feared. 

 

“You can’t…?” Arthur made a gesture with his hands. It wasn’t surprising that he would ask. He admitted to healing Morgana, after all. 

 

Merlin shook his head. “She’s not ill, Arthur. Or wounded. She’s just… old.”

 

“Make her as comfortable as possible.” Arthur ordered, his voice gentle and pained. 

 

The woman, who Merlin believed to be mostly unconscious until that point, reached up to grab the king’s arm. “Thank you.” She breathed out, as if each word costed her greatly. 

 

Arthur clasped his hand over hers. “Try and get some rest.”

 

“My time,” The woman began, her voice aching and tired. “Has come. When you have lived as long as I, you no longer fear the journey to the next world.” She reached into her cloak, pulling out a clothed item. “A gift for you. You have shown kindness and compassion. Those are the qualities of a true king.”

 

Arthur hesitated a moment before taking the item from the woman’s grasp. Underneath the cloth was a horn of some sorts, though Merlin didn’t recognize it or any of the markings etched across it. 

 

“It’s beautiful.” Arthur said, looking over the item.

 

“It has the power to summon spirits of the dead.” 

 

Arthur looked as if he wished to question this further, but moments later the woman took a few gasping breaths and fell silent. Merlin reached forward to feel her pulse once more. After a moment, he looked towards Arthur, shaking his head. She was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who hate rewrites, I promise you this isn't 37 chapters of a season 5 rewrite. We're gonna go through most of the episodes pretty quickly, and then we're never gonna look back. :)


	4. A Taste of the Fire

 

Merlin should have known Arthur would plan to use the horn. Even after all this time, he had never truly moved on from his father’s death. In truth, Merlin wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have used the horn himself if given the opportunity. He had only gotten the chance to meet his own father once before he died. The opportunity to speak to him again, just for a few moments, would be difficult to refuse. Still, it was probably a bad idea.

 

And when Arthur came back from the spirit world looking more forlorn than when he had entered, Merlin knew he had been right.

 

“Do you want to talk about it? What happened at the stones?” Merlin asked, glancing between Arthur and the campfire between them. It was dark now, unlike when they had departed. 

 

“It seems my father does not approve of the way I’ve chosen to rule his kingdom.” Arthur folded his hands in front of his face looking far too young and solemn.

 

“You mean  _ your  _ kingdom.” Merlin pressed. 

 

Arthur made a sound of agreement followed by several seconds of silence. “The things he said about the knights, about marrying Guinevere. What if he's right? What if I have weakened Camelot?”

 

“Do you really believe that? You have always done what you believed to be right. People respect you.” 

 

“Thank you, Merlin.”

 

“Some people still think you’re a foolish arrogant ass.” 

 

Arthur looked up at that. “Who?” He shook his head at Merlin’s innocent shrug. “Very funny.” It was clear from his voice that he had not, in fact, found it very funny, but it had lightened the mood at the very least. Merlin considered it a success. “I can’t imagine what he would say if he knew about you. About what I asked you to do.”

 

Merlin quirked his lips. “If there’s a way to light a pyre from beyond the grave, he’d certainly try.”

 

“That’s not funny.” Arthur said seriously. “You know I wouldn’t let you come to any harm. Even if you were caught. I’d protect you. You know that, right?”

 

“I know.” Merlin said, equally serious. 

 

Arthur nodded slowly, accepting the answer. “We should get some sleep.”

 

Despite the ground being hard and the air being quite cool, it was the best sleep that either of them would be getting for the next several days. Neither of them thought much of it when the Candelabra fell on the Round Table during one of their meetings, shocking Sir Leon into silence for several seconds. But then Percival was injured while alone in the armory. And then Gwen was locked- trapped inside a burning room. 

 

Something was wrong. 

 

Or perhaps, someone. 

 

“We don’t know what happened.” Arthur protested, standing over his wife’s unconscious form while Gaius was busy looking her over.

 

“So Gwen just mysteriously ended up locked in the kitchens, which just mysteriously caught fire.” The king only shook his head at Merlin’s persistence. “You said it yourself Uther disapproved of you marrying Gwen. And I’m telling you, I could feel a presence. There was someone else there.”

 

Arthur looked towards Gaius. “How is she?”

 

“Smoke has entered her lungs, but with time she will heal. I have given her a sleeping draught. She was lucky to have escaped with her life.” Gaius said, placing a cloth against her forehead.

 

“Arthur, you know this was him.”

 

“No.” Arthur turned to glare at Merlin. “I don’t. My father, he was many things, but he wouldn’t do this to Guinevere. He knows how much I love her.”

 

“She was a servant. That’s all that would matter to him.”

 

“Enough.” Arthur said firmly. “Not another word of this.”

 

And he didn’t hear another word of it.

 

Not until two days later. 

 

Not until it was Merlin burning. 

 

Merlin opened his eyes slowly, his head aching fiercely. “G-Gaius?” His throat burned, and he coughed several times in an attempt to clear it, but that only made it hurt worse.

 

There was a cold cloth against his forehead, and Merlin reached forward blindly, crying out at the pain it caused.

 

“Shh. Don’t move, my boy. Stay still.” It was clearly Gaius’s voice. Merlin could still recognize it despite the cotton in his ears. 

 

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking away tears formed by the pain. The longer he was awake, the most aware he became of the heat that burned through his entire body. It hurt to move- to breath. “Gaius.” Merlin repeated, the blurry figure forming in front of his eyes.

 

“Go back to sleep, Merlin.” Gaius said, and the idea of sleeping, leaving the pain, felt too good to resist, and the darkness consumed him once more.

 

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself far more awake than before. It still hurt. Everything still hurt, but it was more of a background pain than anything else. 

 

“Merlin?” It was Arthur’s voice, he noted, and Merlin turned to look at the king. He was sat in a wooden chair far too small for him, watching Merlin with concern.

 

“What-” Merlin coughed once, then twice, until it became a fit of coughs that lasted several seconds. Each one sent a shot of pain through his body. “What happened?”

 

“You don’t remember?” Arthur questioned. He reached forward as if to touch Merlin, but stopped, pulling back. “You were attacked.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, struggling to remember. “I was… in the stables. The door…” The door had shut on its own, and no matter how hard he pulled on it, it would not open. Even when he had become desperate enough to use a spell, the door had remained locked. Then the hay had burst into flames, spreading quickly throughout the stables. He had been trapped. And he had been burned.

 

Unlike Gwen, who’s injuries were mostly due to smoke inhalation, Merlin was far worse off. He couldn’t look down- it hurt far too much to sit up- but he could feel it. He was burned, badly, across his entire body. It had all happened so quickly. There had been no time to react, no time to think.

 

“Uther…” Merlin choked out.

 

He had half expected Arthur to refuse once more, but the king just nodded. “Yes. You said you used magic to open the door to the kitchens- to get Gwen out. He must have seen.” Arthur closed his eyes, letting his head fall into his hands.

 

“Seems I was right.” His voice was still raw, but he managed to get the sentences out. “I said Uther would try to burn me.”

 

Merlin regretted it as soon as he said it, as the look on the king’s face showed the true extent of his guilt. “I should have listened to you. If I had, none of this would have happened.”

 

“You know now. That’s all that matters.” Merlin took a deep breath, which his lungs protested to immediately. “Now we just have to stop him.”

 

“Not we. Me. You’re done.” Arthur said firmly. “You’ve been involved in this far too much already.”

 

“What if you need my help? My magic?” Merlin protested.

 

“You can’t even sit up. You’re not exactly going to be of much help.” Arthur sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Gaius has already explained what it is I need to do. There’s a potion I can drink- it’ll make it so I can see him in his spirit form. You are going to stay here and rest. I’ll take care of my father.” He stood as if to leave, but paused in the doorway. “I’m sorry this happened. Truly. I’ll make it up to you if I can.”

 

“There is one thing you could do for me.”

 

Arthur turned, raising an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

 

“Could you get me some water?”

 

Not long after receiving his cup of water, brought to him by the King of Camelot himself, Merlin had fallen back asleep. He didn’t wake for several more hours, but when he did, he knew immediately that something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. 

 

He needed to find Arthur.

 

Merlin forced himself off the bed, collapsing onto the ground at the pain that shot through his legs. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Arthur. Something was wrong. Something was so wrong.

 

“Merlin?!” Gaius shouted as Merlin came through the door and into the main room. “You cannot be up yet.”

 

“I need… I need to find Arthur.”

 

“I will send for him, then. But please, lie back down!”

 

Merlin shook his head, and began limping towards the door. His legs nearly gave out under him once more. He grabbed a shirt once he realized that he was, indeed, not wearing one. Instead, his chest was a mess of bandages and excess salve. 

 

“Merlin, please!”

 

“Arthur mentioned a potion. Where is it?” Merlin demanded, leaning heavily against the table.

 

“I’ll tell you if you sit down.”

 

“If I sit down, Arthur may die!” He didn’t know why. He didn’t know how. But his magic told him all he needed to know. Arthur was in trouble. He was in danger. He needed to find Arthur. “If you don’t give me the potion, I’ll just go after Arthur without it, and that’s only going to put me in more danger.”

 

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “I could get the guards to force you into bed. You aren’t well enough to be up.”

 

“I can still use my magic, Gaius, and I will if I have to.” Even if he had to expose himself to the guards. He couldn’t just let Arthur die.

 

Gaius stared for several seconds, obviously realizing that he couldn’t win this fight. He reluctantly handed over a small bottle holding a yellowish-green liquid. Merlin grabbed it, downing it in one go. With the pain he was in, he barely even noticed the horrifyingly bitter taste. He pulled the shirt over his head, crying out softly at the movement, and began limping towards the door. 

 

“Merlin, please…”

 

Gaius’s voice was cut off as he shut the door behind him. He didn’t know where Arthur was. He didn’t have the first idea, so he just followed his magic. It sent him down corridor after corridor. It must have been late at night, as the halls were completely empty. It was a good thing, too, as anyone who noticed Merlin in his condition would have likely attempted to stop him and send him back to Gaius. 

 

He didn’t even know the doors he stood before were to the throne room until after he pushed them open. Arthur was unconscious on the floor, and Uther was walking towards him. Stalking him. As if he were prey. 

 

“Get away from him, Uther.” Merlin spoke, and Uther looked up in shock. “You’ve caused enough harm. You don’t belong here. You must return to the other world.”

 

Uther was visibly furious at his appearance. Perhaps he had not realized Merlin had survived his attempt to kill him. “Sorcerer. I will not allow you and your kind to poison my kingdom.”

 

“You’re wrong. About so much.” Merlin spared a glance to the unconscious king before looking back to Uther. “Arthur is a better and more worthy king than you ever were.”

 

Uther’s spirit form raced towards him, and Merlin held out his hands to force him backwards, his eyes flaring gold. Uther’s form passed through the doors, and Merlin limped after him. 

 

_ “Bael onbryne.”  _ Merlin whispered the spell, making all the torches that lined the hall light. Right as Merlin reached the end of the corridor, two spears flew towards him. While they fortunately missed any of his actual body, they pinned him in place, giving him no opportunity to escape.

 

Uther’s form appeared once more, walking briskly towards him. “It will give me great pleasure killing you.”

 

“Father!” Merlin looked up to see the now conscious king standing behind Uther, horn in hand. 

 

“Arthur! No!” Uther tried, facing his son. “Please. Whatever I have done, I have done for Camelot.”

 

“You’ve had your turn. Now it’s mine.” Arthur raised the horn to his lips, and slowly Uther’s form turned to dust until nothing remained. It was done. It was over.

 

Merlin would have probably collapsed in relief if the stakes under his arms weren’t holding him up. “Not a moment too soon, sire.”

 

Arthur recovered quickly, pulling the spears loose from the wall. Merlin’s legs gave out beneath him, and he nearly hit the ground when Arthur grabbed him. Still, the pain from contact made him cry out, and Arthur set him against the wall as gently as he could.

 

“What the hell were you thinking? You should be in bed.” 

 

“Yes, well.” Merlin began, relaxing against the stone wall. “If I hadn’t come, you would be dead, so I’d say it was worth it.”

 

“Worth it!?” Arthur shouted. He probably would have shaken Merlin if it weren’t for the pain it would have caused him. “He nearly killed you!”

 

“Yes. And you. And Gwen. And Percival. He’s tried to kill a lot of people these last few days. Let’s not make a big deal about it, alright?”

 

Arthur continued to stare at him, mouthing wide and gaping. After a moment, he shook his head. “Let’s get you back to Gaius.” 

 

He pulled Merlin’s arm over his shoulder and helped him into a standing position. Merlin tried and failed to get his legs to work- to get them to take any of the weight- but he couldn’t. 

 

“How’d you manage to get all the way here if you can’t even walk?”

 

Merlin shrugged, then winced. “Adrenaline, I suppose.” Or magic. Or perhaps a mix of both. 

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Alright then.” He wrapped his other arm around Merlin’s legs, sweeping him, quite literally, off his feet.

 

“You are  _ not  _ carrying me  _ bridal style _ .”

 

“Do you have any other ideas as to how to get you down a flight of stairs then?” Arthur asked as he began walking down the hall.

 

“No.” Merlin admitted. “But this is still embarrassing. What if someone sees?”

 

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time. Someone had to get you to Gaius from the stables.” Arthur smirked at Merlin’s horrified expression. “Yes. There were many spectators. I can assure you, all of Camelot saw the fair maiden Merlin being carried off by her knight in shining armor.”

 

Merlin groaned, pressing his face into Arthur’s chest, which, to be fair, wasn’t helping his case very much. “Just leave me. I’m better off dead.”

 

“You’re overreacting.”

 

“You don’t know what it’s like as a servant!” Merlin protested. “Rumors spread fast, and they don’t die quickly. I can think of three maids on the top of my head that are sure to tease me relentlessly the next time they see me, and it’s never going to stop.”

 

“Never?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Now I know you’re exaggerating.” 

 

“I’m really not. People still make jokes about me getting sent to the stocks, and I haven't been there in years. Years.”

 

Gaius appeared incredibly relieved to see his ward back in his chambers when they finally arrived. He stood, making his way over to Merlin as Arthur placed him down on his bed. After looking him over to note that his injuries didn’t seem any worse than before, Gaius turned towards Arthur. 

 

“Were you successful, sire?”

 

Arthur nodded. “Yes. My father has returned to the other world.” He looked over Merlin, who gave him a tight smile. “Get some rest. And don’t you dare think about showing up tomorrow morning. Or for probably a week or so. Until Gaius says you’re healed.”

 

“I wouldn't dream of it, sire.” Merlin assured him. Arthur stared at him for a moment longer before turning to leave. Gaius didn’t say anything. Instead he merely shook his head and left the room, leaving Merlin alone once more.

 

Sleep, much to his relief, came quickly.


	5. Another's Destiny

Merlin, much to Gaius’s reluctance, returned to work exactly one week later. Arthur seemed skeptical, noting the way Merlin would wince every few minutes. By the end of the day, his limp would return, which would lead to Arthur sending him home early with orders to not return until he was well. He, of course, would show up the next morning claiming his wellness, only for the cycle to repeat once more.

 

“Do you feel safe here, Merlin?” Arthur asked, sitting at the table. 

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, placing the plate of breakfast on the table. “Of course.”

 

“I mean it.” Arthur continued. “We just barely saved a woman from burning for doing exactly what I have asked you to do. Only a few days later, you nearly suffered the same fate from the wrath of my father.”

 

“The woman was nearly burned, but you saved her.” Merlin sat down in the seat across from Arthur. “I was nearly burned, and you saved me.”

 

“You  _ were  _ burned.” Arthur nodded towards Merlin’s neck.

 

Most of the wounds were healing well enough. They would scar, certainly, but fortunately the burns had managed to avoid the more visible areas. His face had been spared completely, but parts of his neck were not so lucky. His neckerchief covered most of it, but sometimes it slid down, revealing the wounds.  

 

Merlin tugged at the neckerchief self consciously, pulling it so that it would cover the healing burn. “Yes, but I didn’t die. There will always be people that wish me harm, I know that. I knew that when I agreed to learn magic.”

 

“I didn’t.” Arthur shook his head. “I should have. I should have known, but I didn’t even think of it. I was so worried about the magic corrupting you that I never considered anyone else causing you harm.” He sighed. “I should never have asked you to do this.”

 

“I’m glad you did.” Merlin said gently. “I don’t regret it. There have been some rough patches now and then, but… I like having magic. I like using magic. And I want to be able to protect you, and if using magic is how I can do it, then I will do so gladly.”

 

“Aren’t you worried at all?” Arthur questioned. 

 

Merlin shrugged. “The worst thing I can possibly think of happening is your father coming back as a vengeful spirit and trying to burn me to death, and I managed to survive that.” His attempt at humor fell short. “Honestly Arthur, I know you aren’t going to kill me-”

 

“I’m not talking about me!” The king gave Merlin an incredulous look. 

 

“Well obviously.” Merlin waved away Arthur’s complaints. “That’s not what I meant. If I’m caught, if someone sees me, what are they going to do? They’re going to tell the king. At the end of the day, the only person I’m in any real danger of is you, and, like I said, I know you’re not going to kill me.”

 

There was a time when Merlin wouldn’t have been so sure. There were still lies, and everyday Merlin desperately wanted to tell him the truth. At the very least, it would ease Arthur’s guilt. He didn’t make him learn magic. He already knew. He’s been in danger since he was born. It wasn’t his fault. 

 

But Merlin couldn’t bring himself to tell Arthur. With how much Arthur knew already, he wasn’t sure if he could handle any rejection- not when he was so close. 

 

“I trust you, Arthur.” Merlin said after a long moment. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Arthur looked at him for a long moment. “I hope you’re right.”

 

Arthur wasn’t given much time to think about it, something Merlin couldn’t help but be a little grateful for, when Mithian arrived that night, pale and distressed. Sir Leon had been the first to find the princess and her maid when they arrived in Camelot. 

 

Merlin didn’t dislike Mithian. She was kind and wise, and if she had been in Camelot for any reason other than to marry Arthur, they might have become good friends. She would make an excellent queen one day. All in all, he would wish her no harm.

 

So to see her so frightened was… disconcerting. 

 

“Something’s not right.” Merlin paced across the length of Arthur’s chambers. “I’m telling you, there’s something wrong here. I can feel it.”

 

“You can…  _ feel  _ it?” Arthur prompted, his lips quirking ever so slightly.

 

“Yeah. Feel it.” Merlin didn’t rise to the bait and continued to pace. “Something’s wrong with Mithian.”

 

“Well. It might have something to do with the fact that her kingdom was just attacked, and she was forced to flee in fear of her life.” Arthur shrugged his shoulders when Merlin turned to glare at him. “Just a thought.”

 

“No. There’s something more. It’s like she’s afraid. Why would she be afraid here? In Camelot?”

 

“You’re thinking too much into this, Merlin.” Arthur stood, resting his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “The knights and I will go find Mithian’s father, and I can assure you, once we do, she will be much better.”

 

Merlin hummed slightly, not entierly sure if Arthur was right. Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Wait. What do you mean you and the knights. I’m coming, too.”

 

“You’re still healing.” 

 

“I’m well enough to ride.”

 

“You really aren’t.”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “Like I said, something’s not right here. I’m coming with you. You’ll need me, I know you will.”

 

One good thing to come out of the whole experience with Uther was that Arthur now seemed to trust his ‘funny feelings’ far more. He still teased Merlin for them, but he had known Arthur was in danger before it had even happened. He knew it was a spirit before anyone else did. If Merlin said something was going to happen, something was probably going to happen. This had been true for sometime, but Arthur was finally willing to acknowledge it. 

 

“Fine.” Arthur relented. “But you’re taking it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself.”

 

“As if I’d willingly ‘push’ myself.” Merlin rolled his eyes, pleased to have won this however small battle. 

 

Once they departed, even Arthur could tell that Merlin was right. Mithian wasn’t scarred from what happened. It wasn’t residual fear from her past experiences. She seemed afraid- afraid of something that was still there. 

 

With Gaius and Hilda accompanying them, their pace was slower than it would have been with just the knights. This made the ride a bit easier for Merlin, but there were still glances back in his direction every now and then by a number of different knights- most commonly Arthur and Gwaine. The latter, Merlin had been told later on, had helped Arthur to get the stable doors open and drag Merlin out of the flames. 

 

“Something’s not right between Hilda and Mithian.” Merlin commented to Arthur as they made camp. They were getting close to the ruins that Mithian’s father had apparently taken refuge in. 

 

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur agreed. “Yes, I’ve seen it, too. I need to talk to Mithian- without Hilda there.”

 

“That won’t be easy.” Merlin looked away when Hilda turned towards him. “She hasn’t left her side once since their arrival.”

 

“That may be by design.” Arthur paused, leaning in closer. “If this does involve Morgana, don’t use magic unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want her to know about you just yet. Or anyone else, for that matter. The longer we can keep this a secret, the better.”

 

Mithian passed by them several seconds later, followed closely by her servant. Merlin reached out without thinking, grabbing her forearm. There was a burn across her wrist in the same pattern as the bracelet. 

 

“How did you get that?” Merlin questioned, and Arthur seemed far too curious to call him out for grabbing a princess in such a manner.

 

Mithian seemed shocked, and if possible, even more distressed. She pulled her arm back once he released it and wrapped her other hand around the wound to hide it from view. “I… I was bound by Odin’s men before I escaped.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Merlin said, looking between Mithian and Hilda. “I didn’t realize that.”

 

“It’s a very painful memory.” Hilda interrupted. “I’m sure she’d rather not dwell on it.”

 

“Of course.” Arthur finally added. “You should let Gaius see to that. It looks quite painful.”

 

“Thank you, Arthur.” Mithian nodded once, looking between the two of them desperately before walking away. 

 

“She didn’t say anything about being captured.” Merlin whispered.

 

“She was in shock. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” 

 

“That’s a pretty important detail to leave out of your story.” Merlin shook his head. “There’s powerful magic in that bracelet. I can feel it. It’s where that burn came from, I’m sure of it.”

 

“This just means we need to talk to Mithian alone sooner rather than later.”

 

“Again, easier said than done.” 

Their opportunity came the next morning when, for the first time, Mithian left Hilda to wash. Arthur gestured with his head towards Mithian’s retreating form, and Merlin grabbed a water skin and took off after her. There was no reason for Arthur to be by the river. Hilda, if she  _ was _ an enemy, might become suspicious of that. Merlin, at the very least, could use the waterskin as an excuse. 

 

He moved as quickly as he could without looking too obvious, and came across Mithian soon enough. She didn’t appear to be bathing, as Merlin had heard her claim to Hilda. Instead, she was scratching something into the side of a large rock. 

 

“Princess?” Merlin asked, and Mithian jumped at his appearance. Merlin raised his hands in a placating manner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

 

“Merlin!” Mithian stood, dropping the rock in her hand. She ran towards him, taking his shoulders in a crushing grip. It took all of his effort to hold back a wince from the pain it caused him.

 

“We’re alone.” Merlin said quietly.

 

“Hilda.” Mithian looked behind him desperately. “She’s Morgana. She’s using an aging spell. This whole thing is a trap. They have my father. They’ll kill him if I don’t lead Arthur to the tomb.”

 

“Who’s they?” Merlin tried, trying to get as much information as possible. 

 

“Odin.” Mithian breathed. “He wants to kill Arthur. I don’t want to hurt him- I didn’t have a choice…”

 

“It’s alright. Arthur will know he’s walking into a trap, and he’ll work around it. Your father-”

 

Merlin was lurched away from Mithian. His head hit the ground hard, and his vision blurred. It slowly became harder and harder to breath. His throat seemed to be closing. He could hear Hilda- Morgana’s voice in the background, but he couldn’t focus enough to listen. His head was bleeding, he knew that. Mithian was speaking, begging, more like, but the words were lost. 

 

He thought he might have heard Arthur, but then there was only darkness. 

 

When he finally awoke, it was much later in the evening. Gaius was leaning over him, looking more than a little relieved.

 

“Hilda.” Merlin choked out. He sat up far too quickly and was forced to hold onto Gaius’s arm to settle himself. “Hilda is Morgana.”

 

“Morgana?”

 

“She’s been using some kind of aging spell.” Merlin pushed himself into a standing position. “Mithian tried to warn me, but Morgana got to me first.”

 

“And she very nearly killed you, Merlin!”

 

Merlin shook his head, attempting to find balance on the uneven ground. “Arthur was already suspicious. He would have realized Hilda was behind my attack. The question is whether or not he knows Hilda is Morgana- or at least that she has magic.”

 

“He definitely seemed to believe Hilda was to blame, though he kept those opinions mostly to himself.” Gaius confirmed. “But I don’t think he knew she was Morgana.”

 

Gwaine appeared moments later, carrying an armful of firewood. “Merlin! You’re awake!”

 

“We need to get to Arthur.” Merlin ran towards him and out of the camp. “He’s walking straight into a trap.” 

 

Running several miles after just receiving a fairly serious head wound, passing out from oxygen starvation, and all while still recovering from severe burns across his entire body was not exactly an easy task, but adrenaline, once again, was a close friend of Merlin’s.

 

So much for not pushing himself. 

 

Odin’s men were scattered all around the tomb area. Most of the Arthur’s knights seemed to have been rounded up and were surrounded on all sides. 

 

“We’re too late.” Gwaine muttered, hiding behind the cover of bushes.

 

“Not if we even out the numbers.”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

“I’ll look for Arthur.”

 

Gwaine nodded towards Merlin, giving his arm a firm squeeze. “Good luck.” 

 

With the use of his magic, getting past Odin’s men and into the tomb was not difficult. Looking inside the main area of the tomb where Arthur and Percival were being held, along with Mithian and Rodor, Morgana seemed to no longer be using her ageing spell. Arthur was kneeling on the ground before Odin, sword posed above his head. 

 

_ “Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu!”  _ Merlin slammed his palm against the ground, and the whole tomb began to shake. 

 

Arthur used the opportunity to rearm himself and take out several of Odin’s men. The sword that was just a moment before about to behead him was now his own weapon of choice. “Merlin?” He asked, finally spotting the man in the doorway.

 

“Hurry, this way!” Merlin called out, ignoring Arthur’s exclamation. 

 

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, sending Morgana flying into the wall before she could get out a spell to stop them. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s arm and pulled him out of the still collapsing room. Odin’s men were not far behind as they left the tomb, and they were greatly outnumbered.

 

“Leave me.” Rodor demanded, but Arthur only shook his head.

 

“That’s not going to happen. You’re the reason we’re here!” 

 

“Leave me.” He repeated. “Save Mithian.”

 

Arthur looked desperately between them and the quickly approaching group. He glanced to Merlin who nodded very slightly. He could take them. He could take them all. Just get rid of the witnesses first. 

 

“Follow the ridge line.” Arthur nodded towards Percival.

 

“What about you?” Rodor questioned.

 

“We’ll lead them the other way.”

 

“No!” Mithian protested.

 

Arthur clasped a hand on Mithian’s arm. “This is between me and Odin. You need no further part in this.”

 

Percival led the two away while Merlin and Arthur took off in the other direction. It went well enough until they finally reached a dead end. When they turned back towards the entrance of the steep valley that surrounded them, Odin was standing there alongside several other men. 

 

Merlin glanced towards Arthur, and with a single nod of permission, his eyes flashed a burning gold. The quickly approaching men went flying backwards, landing hard on the ground. Arthur appeared shocked at first by the magic, which was more than a little confusing to Merlin. He had wanted him to use magic, hadn’t he? Had he misunderstood the situation? It had seemed clear enough. It took him a moment to realize that Arthur was shocked by the power of it- not by the use of it itself.

 

Arthur recovered quickly enough, taking a few steps towards Odin and his men.

 

Odin was staring past Arthur to Merlin, his eyes wide. “A sorcerer? With Arthur Pendragon?”

 

“You are not the only one with allies who wield such power.” Arthur said, moving to stand above the man. “Not all is always as it seems.”  

 

“So what then? What are you waiting for?” Odin spit out. “Finish it. Finish it all.”

 

“And what then?” Arthur spoke calmly. “Your people will seek they're revenge. A war without an end.”

 

“There is no other way.”

 

“There is another way. In return for your life, you must restore Rodor to the throne of Nemeth.”

 

“Even if I agreed it solves nothing. What about us, Pendragon?”

 

“A truce. Binding our kingdoms to peace.” Merlin felt a swell of pride well up within him. This was a man Arthur hated perhaps more than any other. The man who had taken his father from him. And here he was, willing to put all that aside to make peace.

 

Odin, apparently, didn’t feel the same way. “Never.”

 

“Is this what you want?” Arthur was nearly yelling at this point. “To die here, knowing you condemned this land to war. Odin, you cannot let it end like this. The blood will never wash off.”

 

“You killed my son.”

 

“You killed my father!” Arthur shouted. “We have both lost much at the other's hand. Let us lose no more, I am offering you the chance to end this. Take it!” Arthur threw his sword onto the ground and reached out a hand to the other man. “Take. It.”

 

Nothing happened for a long moment. Odin looked past Arthur once more to Merlin. “Why would a sorcerer align himself with the King of Camelot?”

 

“Because he is right.” Merlin said simply, his voice level and calm.

 

Odin looked back towards Arthur, taking in a slow breath. “So be it.” He reached forward, taking Arthur’s hand into his own. “A truce.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter reads a lot like the episode. I think this chapter is the most like their episode out of any of them. Next chapter isn't an episode au at all. After that, the episodes are much more different. 
> 
> I just know when I read rewrites, it can get kind of annoying when it's literally just the episode all over again. This chapter is probably the worst offender at that. The Disir episode, for example, starts the same, but is a completely different story. 
> 
> But yeah, next chapter isn't an episode au at all. Have fun kids. 
> 
> :)


	6. A Secret For Three

The door to Gaius’s chambers was pushed open gently, and the face of Princess Mithian entered Merlin’s vision. 

 

“Princess?” Merlin lifted his head as Gaius finished rewrapping the gash on his forehead. 

 

“Hello, Merlin.” Mithian smiled, walking towards him.

 

Merlin went to stand. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Oh, no, no.” Mithian shook her head. “Please. Nothing like that. I just wanted to speak to you, if that’s alright.”

 

“Of course.” He hesitated before sitting back down onto the cot. 

 

“I wanted to apologize.” Mithian sat down in the chair Gaius had vacated moments ago. “It was my fault you were hurt. I should have never involved you in this.”

 

“Mithian.” Merlin dropped the title. “With all due respect, I involved myself. I went to find you specifically because I knew something was wrong. I’m grateful you tried to warn us, and I know Arthur is, too.”

 

“You’re too kind, Merlin.” Mithian peered around to take a better look at the bandaged wound. They had returned to Camelot the day after the tomb incident, and Merlin had only fainted once during the trip.

 

_ “I didn’t faint! I just blacked out for a minute.” _

 

_ “You swooned like a girl, Merlin. You’re really making a habit of this, aren’t you?” _

 

“I hope it isn’t causing you too much pain.” Mithian commented.

 

“Oh, no.” Merlin reached up without thinking to touch the bandage, then winced. “Head wounds bleed a lot, so they can look worse than they actually are. I’m fine, really.”

 

“Did she hurt you there as well?” Mithian, suddenly curious, pulled back part of Merlin’s neckerchief to uncover the healing burns. “I didn’t realize…”

 

“No! No.” Merlin pulled the fabric back up to cover the marks. “Those were already there.” Mithian raised an eyebrow, and he was forced to continue. “There was an incident a little while ago. A fire. I’m fine.” Merlin assured her at her visibly growing concern. “Really. It’s all healing well. Gaius has made sure of that.”

 

Mithian didn’t appear appeased. “A fire? It didn’t…” She hesitated. “It didn’t have to do with your… well… your magic, did it?”

 

Merlin’s face grew pale. “Magic? Princess… no, I don’t…”

 

“I won’t tell anyone.” Mithian assured him. “But Arthur already knows, doesn’t he?”

 

“I don’t understand… how?” His breath quickened. How could she know? How could she possibly know?

 

“Odin mentioned a sorcerer with Arthur during the peace talks.” Mithian explained. “Arthur made it pretty clear that he was not to speak of it to anyone, but by then it was too late.”

 

“Did… did anyone else…?”

 

“It was just Arthur, Odin, and my father and I in the room. My father, as far as I’m aware, hasn’t figured out who he was speaking of.” Mithian continued, looking far too calm for the situation at hand. “And I saw Morgana fly backwards in the tomb. Someone used magic on her. I didn’t see who… but you were right there. And you were the only person with Arthur during his confrontation with Odin.”

 

Merlin’s mouth was gaping for a long moment. Of course Odin would talk about Arthur’s sorcerer. Merlin could only hope that he’d manage to keep his mouth shut from now on, or things could get far more complicated. 

 

“Thank you.” Mithian interrupted his thoughts. “I’m not sure if any of us would have escaped with our lives if you had not been there.”

 

“Everyone, uh, played their part.” Merlin shrugged. “I’m just glad everything turned out alright.”

 

Mithian knew about Merlin’s magic. And she wasn’t going to tell anyone. To be fair, it had only been a matter of time until someone had discovered him, especially considering he was using it far more obviously now that the main risk of Arthur finding out was gone. 

 

Arthur didn’t seem to agree. 

 

“Mithian knows I’m a sorcerer.”

 

Arthur, to his credit, managed to not drop the wine he was in the process of drinking. He did, however, choke slightly, and it took a few seconds before he could speak. “What?”

 

“She knows. She told me.”

 

“And you didn’t deny it?!” Arthur placed the cup down on the table far too hard, and a few drops escaped. 

 

“I tried!” Merlin yelled back, becoming quickly irritated with Arthur’s anger. “She didn’t believe me. And the evidence was pretty substantial.” 

 

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. “Damn it, Odin. I shouldn’t have had you use magic against him.”

 

“We were surrounded. What else could you have done?” Merlin pulled out the chair across from Arthur and sat himself down at the table. “Besides, she said she wouldn’t tell anyone, and I believe her.”

 

“That’s the silver lining, I suppose. Odin will be gone by tomorrow, and then we won’t have to worry about him telling anyone else.” Arthur took a long sip of his wine before setting it down once more, far more gently this time. “Back in the tomb. The earthquake. Was that you?”

 

Merlin looked up, then nodded slowly. “Yes.”

 

“That was… powerful magic.”

 

“Not  _ that  _ powerful.”

 

“Merlin.” The strictness of his voice cause Merlin’s full attention. “You made the ground shake. You brought down the roof of an ancient tomb. If that’s not powerful magic, I don’t know what is.”

 

Merlin hesitated, concern building. “Do you… not want me to use that kind of magic?”

 

Arthur was silent for several seconds before looking Merlin straight in the eyes. “When we started this, I thought that maybe you could even the playing field a bit. Maybe you could help to defeat her army during certain battles. At the very least, it could be used to take Morgana by surprise. But…” Arthur breathed out slowly. “You’ve been learning for just a few weeks, and you’re already able to do serious magic. It’s so much faster than I anticipated. It makes me wonder… do you think… given a bit more time, do you think you could take Morgana? In a fight?

 

“I mean, you bested her yesterday.” Arthur leaned back in his chair. “She didn’t know it was you and didn’t know to expect it, but you knocked her out. Do you think there’s a chance you could actually best her in magic?”

 

Merlin opened his mouth to answer but found he couldn’t. Could he beat Morgana? Yes. He knew he could. Probably. Hopefully.  “I… I don’t know.” Merlin stammered out. “I… maybe. But she had been using an aging spell for days. To have held an aging spell that long… that’s frightening.”

 

“Aging spells are difficult, then?”

 

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. They’re very draining on your power. And she would have been weak even after she removed it. I can’t guarantee I would have been able to take her like I did if she had been at full strength.”

 

“Can  _ you _ hold an aging spell that long?” Arthur asked, appearing to be genuinely curious. 

 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t know.” Merlin stuttered. “I’ve never used one before… nor would I really know how…” The last thing he needed was for Arthur to demand a demonstration. Merlin revealing himself to be Dragoon would probably not be great for their personal relationship. 

 

“Hm.” If Arthur noticed Merlin’s panic, he didn’t let him know. “All we can do is keep you training. I don’t want to pit you against Morgana- it would be far too dangerous- but if it became necessary to protect Camelot…”

 

“I’m prepared to face her if need be.” Merlin reassured him. “I would do whatever it took to keep you and Camelot safe. You know that.”

 

“Yes, of course.” Arthur sighed. “Let us hope it never comes to that.”

 

Things continued fairly smoothly after that. Odin was gone the next day without any further issues, and Mithian and Rodor left not long after. Arthur had begun having many of Merlin’s duties transferred to George to give him more time to practice his magic. Sometimes the two of them would go off into the forest. Sometimes they just stayed in Arthur’s chambers with the door locked, but that was only possible when Gwen was out of the room. On rare occasions, Merlin would go off on his own, but Arthur rarely let him. There was no telling what would happen if someone came upon him, and Arthur wasn’t there to explain. It wasn’t as if anyone would actually believe Merlin if he claimed to have the king’s permission after all. 

 

Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers without knocking, expecting it to be empty. Gwen, however, was sitting on the bed, looking incredibly pale. “Gwen?”

 

She looked up suddenly, obviously having not heard Merlin enter. “Oh. Merlin.”

 

“Are you alright?” Merlin approached, placing a hand against her forehead. “You don’t look well.”

 

“I’m fine.” Gwen assured him, pushing his hand away. It wasn’t particularly convincing, however. There was a tremor in her hands, and her voice was shaking ever so slightly. 

 

“Gwen?” He asked gently, moving to sit down next to her on the bed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

For a minute, it looked like she wasn’t going to answer, but then she finally did. “Has Arthur been acting differently lately? To you?”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

 

Her hands curled tightly in her lap. “You… you care about Arthur as much as I do. You’d… you’d help him, right? No matter what?”

 

“Of course I would.” Merlin tried and failed to get her to look at him. “What is this about, Gwen?”

 

“You can’t tell anyone.” Gwen said quietly and slipped off the bed. She walked over to Arthur’s desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out what Merlin immediately recognized at his magic book. She walked back over to him, placing the book on his lap, before sitting back down next to him.

 

“This is…um…”

 

“It’s a magic book.” Gwen said certainly. “Open it up.” She reached over to open it when Merlin did not. “I found it earlier today in his drawer while I was looking for the patrol reports.”

 

“This isn’t a magic book.” Merlin tried to convince her, but Gwen only shook her head.

 

“No. It is. Look at it.” She shook her head, covering her face with one hand. “I didn’t want to believe it… but… that’s what it is. I just don’t understand why he would…”

 

“Perhaps he’s just trying to learn more about the subject.” Merlin offered. “You can’t fight against an enemy you don’t understand.”

 

“With a book of spells?” Gwen said incredulously, and Merlin feared she would begin crying. “I’ve looked through the entire thing. It’s nothing but spells. No one would have this book unless they were trying to learn magic.”

 

“You can’t seriously think Arthur is trying to learn magic.” Merlin reasoned. “That would go against everything he stands for.”

 

“I know.” Gwen sighed. “Believe me, I know, but he’s been acting different lately. He’s more secretive. He used to tell me everything. Now… he’ll disappear for hours at a time with excuses that fall apart. And…” She went silent.

 

“Gwen?” Merlin pressed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“When I was locked in the kitchen… with that fire…” Gwen began, her voice shaking. “It wasn’t natural. I know it wasn’t. And then what happened to you. How can you explain that?”

 

“You can’t be implying that Arthur used magic to try and kill you. Or me, for that matter. Listen to what you’re saying!”

 

“No, I know he wouldn’t.” Gwen protested. “I know that. He would never… but strange things have been happening, and it all started at the same time. I just don’t know what to think anymore. If it changed him...”

 

“Gwen.” Merlin said firmly, taking both of her hands into his own. “I promise you, Arthur is not using magic. He didn’t try to kill us. I swear.”

 

“Do you know what happened then?” Gwen asked quietly.

 

“I do.” Merlin confirmed. “And I know where Arthur has been when he disappears. I know why he has the book. I know why he’s keeping secrets from you, and I swear… it’s not what it seems. Arthur isn’t in any trouble, he didn’t start using magic, and he certainly didn’t try to hurt either of us.”

 

Gwen looked up slowly. “But you can’t tell me?”

 

Merlin shook his head slowly. “No. I’m sorry.”

 

She didn’t do anything for a long moment, but finally she nodded. “You’ll look after him, won’t you?”

 

Merlin smiled for the first time. “I always do, don’t I?”

 

Gwen returned the smile, many of her anxieties seemingly fading at Merlin’s reassurances. She would know one day. Arthur wouldn’t keep it from her forever, but for now, it was for the best if she was kept in the dark. Heaven knows she wouldn’t approve. 

 

But one day. One day she would know. One day they all would know. 


	7. The Price of the Disir

“Mordred used a contre quarte to my high-line attack.” Arthur pulled his chain mail off, handing it over to Merlin. “It was skillfully done.”

 

“Really?” Merlin said, sounding far less interested than his question implied. Watching Mordred train with Arthur was… disconcerting. Every time his blade swung towards the king, he couldn’t help but think the boy was going in for the kill. 

 

“You do understand what a contre quarte is?” Arthur questioned, popping out from behind the changing screen.

 

“I’d guess it was a type of parry, beginning in the quarte position, ending with a twist of the wrist.”

 

Arthur raised his eyebrows, looking mildly impressed. “You have been paying attention.” 

 

Merlin shrugged. “Not much else for me to do while you’re out there swinging your sword around.”

 

“So what do you think of young Mordred?” Arthur questioned.

 

“He’s…” Merlin took in a breath. “Making progress.” Unfortunately. The better he was with a sword, the greater the chance he’d have of killing the king.

 

“He has all the makings of a fine knight, don't you think?”

 

“There are many fine knights in Camelot.”

 

“Yes, but if I'm not mistaken, he'll be one of the finest.”

 

“Arthur.” Merlin began, waiting until he had the king’s full attention. “We need to talk. About Gwen.”

 

Arthur raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Gwen? My wife?”

 

“Yes. Your wife.” Merlin sighed. “Listen. She found the book.”

 

Arthur looked mildly confused for a moment before his face fell. “The magic book?”

 

“Yep.” Merlin nodded. “She was very concerned. I did some damage control, but we’re going to need to tell her the truth eventually. She’s going to figure it out.”

 

Arthur sighed. “Yes. I know, but I don’t want to burden her with it. She won’t like the idea, and it’ll just make her worry. And she’ll probably be quite cross with me for asking you to do it in the first place.”

 

Merlin smiled softly. “If a cross Gwen is your greatest concern, I’d say we don’t have much to worry about.”

 

He shook his head. “You haven’t seen her when she’s angry, Merlin. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.”

 

“I thought the great King Arthur of Camelot feared nothing?”

 

Arthur scoffed. “I’d take a dozen armed mercenaries over a displeased wife any day.”

 

“So are we going to tell her?” Merlin pressed.

 

“Not yet.” Arthur looked back towards him. “We will. Just not yet, alright?”

 

Merlin sighed, conceding. “Alright.”

 

There wasn’t much opportunity to explain any how as Leon appeared the next morning with news of Sir Ranulf’s death at the hands of the sorcerer Osgar. Sir Ranulf wasn’t a knight Merlin had ever had much interaction with, but he and Arthur had been close nonetheless. Losing him had been hard on the king, as anyone could plainly see. 

 

With Osgar now dead, leaving only a runemark in Arthur’s hands, there were far more questions than answers. Arthur seemed content to believe the runemark was no more than a trinket, but after some persuasion from Gaius, he began to see the reality of the situation.

 

And then Mordred had been wounded at the hand of the Disir.

 

“Merlin is right. This is no ordinary wound.” Gaius looked over the boy’s unconscious form. “There is magic at play.”

 

“Can you save him?” Arthur pressed, his arms crossed tightly.

 

“I am but a physician. There are limits to my knowledge.” 

 

Arthur shook his head. “There must be something that can be done.” He looked towards Merlin desperately. “Can you heal him? With magic?”

 

“I…” Merlin hesitated. Letting Mordred die was for the best. He was destined to kill Arthur. But the boy had done nothing to deserve this. He had been wounded protecting Arthur. “I don’t know. The wound is not a simple one.”

 

“You must try.” Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. “I beg of you. Please.”

 

Merlin looked at him for a long moment. Arthur would blame himself for Mordred’s death. He had enough guilt on his shoulders without such a thing. He nodded slowly, placing a hand over the wound.  _ “Þurhhæle dolgbenn.” _

 

Arthur looked over expectantly, disappointment obvious when there was no change to the wound. 

 

_ “Licsar ge staðol nu.” _ Merlin tried once more, but the result was the same.

 

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, turning away from the group.

 

“I… I have one more.” Merlin said, getting Arthur’s attention. “It’s the most powerful healing spell I know. It’s what I used to heal Morgana from her head wound. If this doesn’t work… nothing will, Arthur.” 

 

Arthur nodded. “Try it.”

 

Merlin took a breath.  _ “Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” _

 

At first, it appeared at if the results would be the same as the last two attempts, but then Mordred took in a gasping breath and the wound began to close.

 

Gaius placed two fingers on Mordred’s neck. “His pulse is strong, sire. I do believe he will survive.”

 

Arthur let out a choked laugh, grabbing Merlin’s shoulder in a crushing grip. Despite the situation, Merlin couldn’t help but smile in return. 

 

“You healed him.” Arthur breathed, turning to look Merlin straight in the eyes. “Thank you. Truly.”

 

“My magic is yours, my lord.” And it was true. That would always be true. More than Arthur would ever understand. 

 

“How long until he regains consciousness?” Arthur asked as last, bringing his attention back towards his knight.

 

“I cannot know for certain.” Gaius admitted. “But I would not expect him to remain unconscious for more than a day.”

 

Arthur nodded, pleased. “Let me know at once when awakens.” He turned to Merlin. “Stay here in case you’re needed.” He paused. “And thank you.”

 

Without waiting for Merlin’s response, the king turned and left the chambers.

 

“You did the right thing, Merlin.” Gaius said, relaxing in his chair.

 

“Did I?” He asked, staring at Mordred. “I saved the life of a man destined to kill Arthur. I  may have just doomed my king.”

 

“He’s a likable boy, Merlin.”

 

“I know. I like him myself.” Merlin shook his head. “But I know what I saw.”

 

“Seeing it not the same as knowing.” Gaius admonished. “He’s done nothing to deserve death. Healing him was the right thing to do.” 

 

Whether or not Merlin agreed with that was irrelevant. Mordred was healed. All things considered, he couldn’t bring himself to be that upset with the outcome of the situation. The relief on Arthur’s face would not be quickly forgotten, and if Merlin’s goal was to show Arthur how magic could be used for good, then he certainly succeeded there. 

 

Mordred, of course, knew that his sudden recovery must have been influenced by magic. None of Gaius’s remedies could have healed his wound so quickly and completely. And there was only one person who would have been strong enough.

 

“You healed me, didn’t you?” Mordred asked, sitting up in his cot.

 

Merlin didn’t respond for a long moment. “I did.”

 

“I am grateful.” The druid said honestly. “Might I ask… how do you hope to explain my recovery to the king? He will surely question it.”

 

“It is as I said before. We will not have to live in hiding forever. Things will change.” Merlin mused quietly. “I suppose, in a way, they already have.”

 

Mordred seemed to accept the cryptic answer as he merely nodded, a content smile forming across his face.

 

“I would ask, however,” Merlin continued. “That you don’t make your recovery too obvious. Just because Arthur isn’t asking questions doesn’t mean others won’t, and I’d rather not get any fingers pointed at me.”

 

“Of course.” Mordred said quickly. “I will ensure no one has any reason to suspect magic.”

 

Merlin didn’t respond other than a short nod. That was the problem with Mordred. He was a good kid. There wasn’t anything particularly dislikable about it. He was honest and loyal. He was thoughtful and modest and an excellent swordsman. He could be one of Arthur’s finest knights. If things had been different, they could have been good friends. 

 

But the vision of Mordred killing Arthur continued to haunt him night after night. Maybe, if he could show Mordred that Arthur would indeed accept his kind one day, the events in the vision would not come to pass.

 

But taking chances like that were dangerous. 

 

Arthur was in a disturbingly good mood for days afterwards. He was so fond of the boy, and he had come too close to losing him. And beyond that, Mordred had been hurt protecting him. If he had died…

 

No one else besides Gaius had gotten a good look at Mordred’s wound, so when he was up and about after three days of bed rest, no one questioned it. He still took it easy, despite not really needing to, for Merlin’s sake. Mordred didn’t partake in training, but he would sit and watch, observing the more senior knights practice. Mordred was a great swordsman, but he was still young, and he had much to learn. 

 

A week later, it seemed as if the incident with the Disir was behind them completely. 

 

Now a days, Merlin usually polished Arthur’s armor in his chambers where he could use his magic, but Gwen was there tonight. It couldn’t be held off for any longer as Arthur would need it ready by tomorrow morning. Merlin, therefore, was forced to do it the old fashion way- in the armory with a cloth. 

 

It was late. The knights, as well as most of the kingdom, had already gone to bed, and as much as Merlin would have loved to join them, he had work to complete. 

 

The door to the armory squeaked slightly as it opened, and Sir Geraint entered, closing the door behind him. Apparently Merlin wasn’t the only one awake at this hour. It was a small comfort. Sir Geraint had become knight long before Merlin came to Camelot. They hadn’t had many close interactions, but as far as he was aware, Arthur quite liked the man. That had always been good enough for Merlin.

 

“Sir Geraint.” Merlin nodded towards him politely and continued polishing. He looked up a few moments later to see the knight still staring down at him. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

 

“You can tell me why you’re here.” The knight’s voice was low and far more dangerous than Merlin had ever heard it. Of all the knights to cause Merlin any trouble, Geraint had never been one of them. He reminded Merlin of Leon in a lot of ways. 

 

“I…” Merlin looked down to the cloth in his hands. It was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? “I’m polishing the king’s armor.”

 

Without warning, a hand latched onto Merlin’s neck, and he was pushed back against the wall. Merlin clawed at the hand that was beginning to tighten. “In Camelot. What are you doing in Camelot?”

 

The confusion, as well as panic, was overwhelming. “I- I don’t understand…” Merlin forced out, but the hand only tightened.

 

“What’s your plan?” He asked, but Merlin couldn’t get enough breath to answer. 

 

The hand loosened, and Merlin gasped in a lungful of air. “Plan? What… I don’t…”

 

Geraint slammed him back against the wall once more, knocking the breath out of him. “I’m not here to play games, sorcerer.”

 

Merlin paled considerably. “I’m not-”

 

His head hit against the wall for the third time, and black dots danced in front of his vision. “This can be quick, Merlin. This can be quick and painless, but if you fight me, you’ll only end up causing yourself more trouble. It gives me no joy to do this, but I can’t let this continue any longer.”

 

The hand let go completely, and Merlin collapsed to the ground. He looked up, and Geraint was staring down at him. A boot pressed against his chest, holding him against the ground.

 

“I know you healed Sir Mordred. I overheard you speaking about it.” The pressure on his chest increased. “Now I want to know why a sorcerer is in Camelot. I want to know what your plan is. I want to know why you healed Mordred.”

 

“Please.” Merlin rasped out, his throat still raw. “I… You misunderstood…”

 

The boot lashed out, hitting Merlin square in the face. He could feel himself being dragged away from the wall, and then there was the press of a blade against his throat. “I will not stop until you answer my questions. I will not allow you to hurt the king or Camelot.”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin tried, well aware of the knife that could kill him at any moment. “Arthur is my friend. I would never…”

 

The knife was removed from his throat and pressed against his shoulder. Slowly, the blade began digging into the flesh. Merlin struggled desperately to get away, but the knight was crouched over him, his knees pinning his arms to the ground. He could use magic easily, but that would hardly prove his innocence. 

 

“Please!” Merlin cried out, and the blade was removed. “Please… I’m not…”

 

A hand closed around his throat once more. “Tell me the truth.”

 

Merlin couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. The knight’s voice began to blur, and Merlin realized he was going to kill him. He was going to die here. Geraint was going to kill him. 

 

Arthur was going to find his body. Maybe Geraint would tell him the truth, that he found a sorcerer that infiltrated the castle and took care of the situation. Maybe Arthur would be left with no answers at all.

 

But he would blame himself either way.

 

He couldn’t use magic against this man. Arthur would need to be able to convince him that he was innocent. He couldn’t do that if the man witnessed his magic first hand.

 

There was only one option. 

 

_ “Help… please…” _

 

For a long moment, there was nothing. No response. No voice. 

 

_ “Merlin?”  _ Mordred’s voice was never something that calmed Merlin. If anything, it put him on edge. But in that moment, the relief was overwhelming.

 

_ “Armory… Arthur… please…” _

 

The lack of oxygen made it hard to even speak within his own mind. The man above him was blurry, and darkness was creeping in around the edges. 

 

_ “Hurry… please…” _

 

Merlin wasn’t sure if there was a response or not. He couldn’t concentrate enough to focus on anything. 

 

The hands loosened for a moment, and Merlin heaved in desperate breaths. 

 

“Tell me!” 

 

When Merlin said nothing- couldn’t say anything- the hands tightened, and his air was taken from him once more. Merlin couldn’t tell how much time was passing. Blood was pounding in his ears. He fought to stay conscious knowing he would not awaken if he did not. 

 

_ “Please...” _

 

And then the hands were gone. Not loosened, but gone entirely. The pressure holding his arms down fell away, and Merlin grasped at his own neck as he nearly cried in relief of the oxygen that flooded his lungs. He could breath. He could breath. He could breath.

 

There was a hand on his shoulder, but Merlin couldn’t tell who it was. He blinked furiously, trying to get the black spots to fade.

 

“My lord, Sir Mordred has been harboring a sorcerer. Your servant healed him using magic. I was attempting to discover the true extent of his deceit before bringing him to you.” 

 

His vision slowly returned to him. It was Arthur, holding Geraint against the wall by his shoulders as the man attempted to explain his actions. Merlin winced at the pounding in his head. It was Mordred’s hand on his own shoulder, he realized. 

 

“He’s a traitor. They both are.” Geraint said to Arthur, pointing at Merlin and Mordred. “Mordred knew about the magic. He did nothing!”

 

“Geraint!” Arthur cried, nearly shaking the man. “I know! I know about the magic. Merlin is not our enemy.”

 

“Sire?” Geraint’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No… No, you wouldn’t do this, sire. You wouldn’t harbor a sorcerer.”

 

“He’s working under my orders, Geraint.” Arthur reasoned. “Listen to me. I understand you think you’re doing the right thing here, but there’s much you do not realize.”

 

Geraint shook his head, turning to look towards Merlin with a murderous expression. “You enchanted him. You enchanted our king!”

 

“No-” Arthur tried, but then he was on the ground as Geraint pushed him away. The knight stalked towards Merlin, pulling his sword from its scabbard. Mordred stood in response, moving in front of Merlin. 

 

But Mordred was unarmed. The man had obviously been too rushed to grab his sword. Ironic how he would be put in such a situation within an armoury. If only the swords weren’t stored on the other side of the room.

 

“I’ll free you from your enchantment, my lord.” Geraint said surely, preparing to drive the sword through Mordred’s, then Merlin’s, chest.

 

But instead a blade pierced his own.

Arthur pulled the sword out of the man’s chest, letting him fall to the ground. He stared at the fallen knight for several seconds as the blood began to spill across the stone floor, pressing against the bottom of Arthur’s shoes. Finally, after what couldn’t have been more than seconds despite feeling much longer, he looked up towards Merlin. 

 

Then, finally, the darkness claimed him. 


	8. Lost and Found

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

 

Merlin blinked to awareness, turning his head towards the king who was sat just a few feet away. It was strangely reminiscent to when Merlin awoke from the fire incident. There was, however, significantly less pain this time around. 

 

“Try not to speak too much.” Arthur warned. “You’ll be fine, but your throat will probably be sore for a bit. That’s what Gaius said at least.”

 

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but opted to nod instead. 

 

“So apparently you and Mordred can… what? Talk in your heads?” Arthur shook his head. “I mean, I knew he was a druid, but I didn’t know they could do that. And of course, he also knows about the magic. How long has that been going on for?” 

 

“Uh-”

 

“Shush.” Arthur chided. “All questions are currently rhetorical. Understand?”

 

Merlin went to nod, then squinted instead, not falling for the obvious bait. 

 

“Mordred isn’t going to tell anyone.” Arthur continued. “I’m sure you probably already knew that, but we had a bit of a chat.” He ran a hand over his face. “This kid, Merlin, he comes running into my chambers in the middle of the night saying you’re in some kind of trouble. Can’t explain how he knows…” Arthur sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Why didn’t you just defend yourself in the first place!?”

 

“Didn’t want to-”

 

“Shush.” Arthur repeated. His face grew solemn. “Geraint was a good knight. I know he attacked you, and he was wrong to do so, but he was a good man. He was just trying to protect me, and in doing so, you got hurt, and he got killed.”

 

“Wasn’t your fault.”

 

“If he hadn’t tried to kill you and Mordred…” He closed his eyes. “I tried to reason with him. I was going to explain everything. I was going to tell him the truth… but then… he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t listen to me, and I killed him.” Arthur paused, taking in a breath. “I’ve never killed a man for trying to protect me before. He didn’t deserve it.”

 

Merlin nodded slowly. Yes, the man had hurt him, but he was truly just trying to protect Arthur. He hadn’t actually resorted to killing Merlin until he believed his king to be under the influence of an enchantment. And he did believe Arthur to be enchanted. This wasn’t blind bigotry towards magic. This was a knight trying to protect his king. Killing the source would kill the enchantment. Merlin could respect that, even if there was no enchantment. 

 

He was a good and loyal knight.

 

And now he was dead.

 

“I’m sorry.” Merlin whispered.

 

“You aren’t the one at fault.” Arthur said quietly. “But Merlin, please… if it comes to a choice between revealing the magic and protecting yourself… please… don’t try to be the bigger man. Do what you have to do. We’ll figure it out.”

 

There was nothing Merlin could say, so he only nodded once more. 

 

Merlin was up and back to his duties by the next day. His neck was badly bruised, but his neckerchief covered it sufficiently. As far as anyone else was aware, Sir Geraint had attacked Arthur in a drunken fit. He had been forced to kill the man in order to defend himself. Despite that, the man was still grieved, and a knights funeral was held for him.

 

Merlin hadn’t been looking forward to approaching Mordred, but if it weren’t for him, he might not have survived that night. Or perhaps his magic would have lashed out and killed the man, changing Arthur’s view on him forever. As much as Merlin didn’t want to admit it, Mordred had done nothing but prove his loyalty to both him and Arthur.

 

It took an entire day for Merlin to finally track him down- in the armoury of all places. It was more than a little ironic. 

 

“Mordred.” Merlin called out, and the boy turned in surprise, placing his sword on the rack.

 

“Merlin.” Mordred greeted. “You’re healing well, I hope.”

 

“Yes.” Merlin confirmed with a nod. “I wanted to thank you. For yesterday.”

 

Mordred gave him a small smile. “It was nothing. After all, your attack was partially my fault anyways.” The smile fell. “I’m sorry. I should not have made my recovery so obvious. I thought I was going slow enough, but obviously I was not.”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “The fault does not lie with you. Geriant overheard us speaking the day you awoke. It had nothing to do with your recovery.”

 

Mordred nodded, accepting the answer. “I wasn’t entirely sure, from what you said before, if Arthur knew of your magic. Obviously he does.”

 

“He knows some.” Merlin confirmed. “He doesn’t know I’ve been using magic my whole life. He doesn’t know I’m Emrys. As far as he’s concerned, I only just started using it- to help him win the war against Morgana.”

 

“And he was fine with that?” Mordred questioned.

 

“It’s… complicated.” Merlin admitted. “But yes.” A pause. “I ask that you do not mention my previous uses of magic to him.”

 

“Of course.” Mordred agreed easily. “I will not divulge your secrets.”

 

“Thank you.” Merlin turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. “And truly, thank you for your help.” He didn’t wait for a response before walking forward and letting the door shut behind him. 

 

Merlin’s attack had all but ruined Arthur’s previous good mood from Mordred’s recovery. One knight had been saved while another was lost. Perhaps that was the Old Religion’s way of keeping the balance. Arthur mood only worsened, however, when Gwen went to visit her father’s grave and never returned.

 

Merlin opened the door to Arthur’s chambers, and Arthur turned to look at him. 

 

“Learn to knock, will you.” Arthur said quietly, turning back around.

 

“Sorry sire.” Merlin said, walking towards the king. “I wanted you to know that Leon and Percival are safe. They are well on their road to recovery.”

 

“That’s good news.” Losing his knights on top of his wife might have been too much for him to bear.

 

“Arthur…” Merlin hesitated. “There is evidence of sorcery. Gaius suspects Morgana is involved.”

 

“I lost Guinevere once before…”

 

“You are not going to lose her. You’re not.” Merlin took a step closer. “We will find her. I promise.”

 

Arthur looked back up at him. “If this was Morgana… do you believe you could beat her?”

 

“I will do whatever is needed to protect Gwen.” It wasn’t a direct answer, but Arthur seemed to take it for what is was. It didn’t matter if he could best Morgana or not. He was sure as hell going to try. “We’ll bring her home, Arthur.”

 

It was easier said than done, however. Merlin had thought her whereabouts being discovered would have made things easier, but the Dark Tower was, apparently, not a place to be trifled with. 

 

“I've decided to journey to the Dark Tower.” Arthur declared, looking to the rest of his knights. “It's my belief that Guinevere has been imprisoned there. I don't know what horrors will be waiting, so I will be traveling alone.”

 

“No.” Elyan said firmly.

 

“I’ve made my decision.”

 

“You can’t stop me Arthur.” Elyan continued. “She’s my sister. I won’t abandon her.”

 

“Nor me.” Percival added. “She’s our Queen.”

 

“And our friend.” Leon took a step forward.

 

“She's a maiden in a tower. A damsel in distress.” Gwaine grinned. “I was born for this moment.”

 

Arthur looked towards Merlin. There was no question as to whether or not he was coming. He would need him. He would need his magic. Merlin didn’t give him the chance to ask, merely nodding once in answer. “I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

 

Finding the tower was not the difficult part. Arthur seemed to know exactly where it was. The problem lied in the forest that surrounded the tower. The Impenetrable Forest, they called it. But penetrate it, they must. 

 

“Can you get us through the forest?” Arthur leaned in towards Merlin, speaking softly enough for the other knights not to hear. 

 

“I’m not sure. I still don’t know what you mean by ‘impenetrable’.” Merlin whispered back.

 

“Nor do I.” Arthur admitted. “But you must try.”

 

“Of course.” 

 

As it turned out, the forest was more like a maze than anything else. The group circled the same path over and over again. It didn’t matter what turns they took or what direction they went. They would seem close to the treeline only to end up right where they started. 

 

“We need to find the clearing where we saw the Dollares Plains.” Arthur said, growing more frustrated by the second.

 

“Which way is that?” Elyan asked, disoriented. 

 

Merlin turned away from the knights, and his eyes flashed gold. He looked to the path ahead, searching until he found what he was looking for. “This way.” He said, pointing to the correct direction.

 

Arthur looked at him for a long moment. “Are you certain?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin said firmly.

 

“Very well.” Arthur nodded, and the group began their trek once more. 

 

The rest of the knights didn’t argue much to Merlin suddenly taking lead. They were horribly lost anyhow. Even if Merlin lead them to nowhere, they would be no worse off than before. 

 

Merlin would stop every few minutes, eyes flashing gold. He was sure Arthur saw him doing so at least once, but he didn’t say anything if he did. There was no need to. If Merlin could get them through the forest, that was all that mattered. 

 

At long last, they pierced through the tree line, Arthur clamping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. Before them was miles of desert with the Dark Tower lying at the center.

 

“How far do you think it is?” Elyan asked.

 

“At least we can see where we’re going.” Gwaine replied, taking a step forward.

 

Arthur took off towards the tower. “Let’s not stand here looking at it.”

 

The rest of the journey was far less perilous, despite Merlin sliding down the increasingly steep hill of sand and nearly impaling himself on the left over swords of fallen knights from days past. 

 

Once inside the tower, the danger only seemed to increase. 

 

“Stop!” Elyan called out. He had pulled ahead of the rest of the group and now stood completely still in the middle of a large room. 

 

Percival took a step forward, and the floor beneath him dipped slightly. An arrow shot out from the wall and into his leg before Merlin could react. The knight fell to his knees with a cry, trying to avoid the rest of the flagstones.

 

“Nobody move.” Arthur held out a hand to stop the group. “Stay exactly where you are.”

 

“What triggered it?” Leon looked around the room.

 

“The flagstones. They must react to pressure.” Arthur answered.

 

“Here.” Elyan pulled out his sword. “I’ll use this.” He threw his sword a few feet in front of him to trigger the arrows from afar.

 

The others continued in suit. A stray arrow flew out directly towards Arthur’s head, only to suddenly turn and fly in the other direction. Arthur gave Merlin a slight nod of acknowledgement and continued forward. 

 

“I’ll push on.” Elyan said, far closer to the doors than anyone else.

 

“No, Elyan.” Arthur tried, but the other knight ignored him.

 

“None of us would be here if it weren’t for me.” Elyan shook his head. “I have to do this.” 

 

“Elyan!” Arthur cried out as he reached the doors.

 

The doors, however, slammed shut in front of him and would not budge no matter what he tried. Arthur looked alarmed at first, wary of this new trap, but a glance at Merlin’s glowing eyes told him everything he needed to know. The doors would open once the rest of them arrived. Elyan would not be going off on his own and likely getting himself killed in the process. 

 

Elyan and the rest were pleasantly surprised to see the door unlocked once they all approached. The surprise grew to suspicion, but it wasn’t directed towards Merlin. They continued up the stairwell, and the next room held the prize they were seeking.

 

“Arthur?” Gwen called out in shock as the group approached. 

 

“Guinevere!” Arthur tried to run towards her when he and the rest of the group finally noticed the floating sword that barred their entry.

 

“It will not let you pass. Morgana enchanted it to protect me.” Gwen wrapped her arms around herself. “You cannot free me, Arthur. Leave me here, please.”

 

“Never.” Arthur said firmly. “I will not leave you.”

 

“You cannot beat it!” Gwen cried out as Arthur readied his own sword to attack the enchanted one. “It will fight to the death!”

 

The warning didn’t deter the king as he took to dueling the sword, but it had a distinct advantage. It could wound Arthur, while Arthur could not wound it. It had no body, and thus there was no way to overcome it. 

 

Merlin flashed his eyes gold, and the sword began to dip. Its moves became less sharp and slowed. The sword fell to the ground, continuing to shake, as if struggling against a stronger force. Merlin turned his head away to hide his eyes from the rest of the group as Arthur rushed forward to pull his wife out of the room. The group retreated it, and as soon as the doors shut behind them, the sword launched itself into the wood. It wriggled in an attempt to escape the door, but it was stuck completely. 

 

Arthur embraced Gwen in a crushing hug, holding her close. “I thought I might have lost you.”

 

There were none in the group that were not relieved to see their Queen safe once more. Despite Arthur’s previous concerns, Morgana was nowhere to be found in the tower. There was no doubt that she was behind Gwen’s kidnapping to begin with, but she seemed to be long gone. 

 

It was strange, though. All this effort to lure Arthur into a trap, and an enchanted sword was all they got? Sure, if it weren’t for Merlin’s magic, they would have been in more trouble, but it seemed almost a bit anticlimactic. Did Morgana underestimate Arthur so much? 

 

The thoughts did not leave Merlin as quickly as he would have liked them to, but in the end it didn’t matter. Gwen and home and safe once more, and Arthur would not be quick to let her out of his sight any time soon. 

 

All was well.

 

Or so it seemed.


	9. A Vengeful Queen

“I could have lost Guinevere.” Arthur mused to Merlin. 

 

“But you did not.” 

 

“Indeed.” Arthur stood, walking towards Merlin. “And I have you to thank for that. We would have never gotten through the forest without you. And that sword would have likely killed me.”

 

“Have the knights questioned it at all?” Merlin asked, letting some of his concern show.

 

Arthur shook his head. “No. I believe they’re all too relieved to have Guinevere back to concern themselves with it.”

 

“That’s good.” 

 

“Yes.” Arthur took another step towards Merlin, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think you were right. Guinevere should know the truth. I don’t like keeping things from her. Losing her… it reminded me of that.”

 

Merlin nodded once, then hesitated. “I’m not sure now is the right time.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Only last week you were pushing for the exact opposite.”

 

“I know.” Merlin turned to look at him completely. “It’s just… she just got back from being held captive. By magic. This might not be the best time to tell her that I’m…” He sighed. “I don’t want to remind her of Morgana.”

 

Arthur squeezed his shoulder. “You’re nothing like her. But perhaps you’re right. We’ll give her time to feel safe once more. Then we’ll tell her.”

 

“Of course.” Merlin smiled. 

 

And then Arthur’s saddle broke, nearly breaking the king’s neck.

 

And the suspect was murdered in his own cell.

 

And Arthur was poisoned.

 

And Gwen had pointed the finger at Merlin. 

 

It was so unlike the Gwen Merlin had come to know. Gwen knew how loyal Merlin was to Arthur. She knew Merlin would never hurt him, yet she accused him without any doubt or hesitation. She didn’t check for alibis. She didn’t allow him a defense. Mere moments after Gaius confirmed that the king had been poisoned, Merlin had been arrested and thrown into the dungeons.

 

This was not Gwen.

 

But that wouldn’t matter if Arthur was dead. If Arthur succumbed to the poison. If Merlin was executed for treason. If destiny was destroyed.

 

“Merlin!”

 

Merlin looked up from his spot in the cell, standing and walking briskly towards the bars as Mordred came into view. “How’s Arthur?”

 

Mordred shook his head. “Not well. I tried to heal him when the Queen stepped away, but it was no use. I’m not strong enough.”

 

“And Gaius can’t cure him?”

 

“No.” Mordred confirmed. “We need your magic, Merlin, or the king will die.”

 

“If you hadn’t noticed, I am currently locked in the cells having been accused of poisoning him to begin with.” Merlin grabbed at the bars. “They aren’t about to let me see him.”

 

Mordred looked from Merlin to the guards down the hall. “I’m a trusted knight. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow as Mordred walked away from this cell and towards the guards.

 

“The Queen has ordered that the prisoner be escorted to her.” To Mordred’s credit, he lied well. Merlin wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing in the long run.

 

The response of the guards was far more quiet. “We’ve received no such orders.”

 

“You have now.” Mordred pressed. “The king’s life is at stake. We need to know what poison he used, or there will be no hope in saving him.” There was a short pause. “For every moment we waste, the king grows closer to death. Would you like to be at blame for such a thing?”

 

That seemed to do the trick as one of the guards walked towards the cell and entered a key into the lock. He reached in, grabbed Merlin by the arm, and pulled him from the cell.

 

“I’ve got him.” Mordred said, taking Merlin from the guard. 

 

The guard let go and allowed the two to pass and leave the dungeons.

 

“That was… almost impressive.” 

 

“I’m glad you think so highly of me.” Mordred said flatly, pushing Merlin into an alcove as someone, Merlin couldn’t tell who, passed by. It wouldn’t be so easy to convince anyone else that Merlin was supposed to be there. Heaven forbid they ran into another knight, in which case both of them would be thrown into the cells, and Arthur would be doomed.

 

Mordred ended up having to push Merlin into hiding three times before they reached the king’s chambers. Gwen and Gaius were the only ones inside the room, but Gwen would need to leave before Merlin could do anything.  

 

Merlin hid out of view behind one of the pillars as Mordred pulled the door open.

 

“My lady!” Mordred called out in feigned concern. He was a good actor. Again, Merlin wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. “An intruder has been spotted in the citadel. You must come with me.”

 

Gwen’s voice, coming from inside the room, was quieter. “An intruder? But the warning bells haven’t been rung.”

 

“They will be any second I imagine.” Mordred pressed. “Please, my lady. We must get you to safety.”

 

“I can’t leave Arthur. Not now.”

 

“I will alert you if there is any change, my lady.” It was Gaius’s voice this time. “You could be in grave danger here.”   
  


“Why would anyone wish me harm?”

 

“You’re to be our leader, Gwen. You are Camelot’s future. Do you imagine our enemies don’t want you dead?” There was a pause. “I will fetch you at once if anything happens, but you must go.”

 

Gwen must have been convinced as she appeared a few moments later, Mordred in tow. Merlin peaked around the pillar and walked into the room.

 

Gaius looked immensely relieved to see him. “I had hoped you were the reason for the diversion.”

 

Merlin approached the bed. “How is he?”

 

“His heart has nearly stopped.” Gaius stepped closer to Merlin. “I fear he is close to death.”

 

Merlin placed a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “The sickness is so deep in him. I don’t know if I have the power to bring him back.”

 

“You can do this, Merlin.”

 

Merlin straightened and took a breath before placing both hands on his chest.  _ “Ic the thurhaele thinu licsar mid thamsundorcraeft thaere ealdan ae!” _

 

Merlin backed away, giving Gaius the chance to check Arthur’s pulse. He looked back towards Merlin with a solemn look, and Merlin covered his face with his hands. No. No. This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be dead. Not like this. Not at his wife’s hand. Not this young.

 

But then Arthur moved. A mumbled word escaped his lips, and he began to turn onto his side. Merlin let out a choked laugh, tears that had been forming in his eyes beginning to fall.

 

“Well done, my boy.” Gaius wrapped the crying man in an embrace. “Well done.” He pulled back. “You’d better get back to the cells before you’re missed.”

 

“And how do I do that?” Merlin asked, looking around the room.

 

The doors opened, and Gwen reentered, followed closely by Mordred. Mordred glanced to the king and let out a sigh of what must have been relief at his obviously improved state.

 

“Guards!” Gwen called out. “Guards, help!”

 

Several armed men entered the room, grabbing at Merlin.

 

“No, listen to me. Wait- look!” Merlin tried to point Arthur, failing due to his suddenly restricted movement. “The king is healed! He’s been cured!”

 

The guards didn’t listen to him, nor did they listen to Mordred’s protests, and began dragging the struggling Merlin out of the room.

 

“Merlin?” Merlin twisted his head around at the familiar voice. Arthur was beginning to awaken and was slowly taking in the situation around him. “What… what happened?” His eyes roamed over to Merlin’s form, held tight by the guards. “Release him.”

 

The guards hesitated, looking to Gwen. She turned towards Arthur, appearing relieved at his sudden recovery.

 

“Oh, Arthur.” She ran towards him. “I thought I lost you.”

 

Arthur reached up to squeeze Gwen’s arm, but he continued to look past her at the guards. “Release him.”

 

“Arthur.” Gwen reasoned. “Merlin is the reason you were hurt to begin with. He poisoned you.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You can’t seriously believe that.”

 

“I’m afraid it’s true.”

 

He shook his head. “Merlin wasn’t anywhere near my food tonight. Call the cook, I’m sure he’ll have an alibi there.”

 

Gwen didn’t give up. “He escaped from the cells. He came here to finish you off.”

 

“Sire.” Mordred interjected, stepping closer to the king. “I admit that it was I who released Merlin from the cells. I knew he was innocent and believed he could have been of use to Gaius.”

 

Arthur seemed to take the hint. “You see? Merlin is not the culprit here. He helped Gaius to cure me, did he not?” He looked towards the physician.

 

Gaius nodded. “Yes, my lord. He was quite concerned for your well being.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

“Guinevere.” Arthur said firmly. “I know this must have been very frightening, but putting the blame on Merlin is not the answer.” He looked back to the guards who were still holding onto Merlin painfully tight. “Release him at once.”

 

This time, the guards did as he said, and Merlin took a few steps away from them as they let go of him. 

 

“We should not take any chances, Arthur.” 

 

“Then call the cook.” Arthur replied. “She’ll confirm his alibi. Someone else is responsible for this. Pointing your finger at the wrong people will do us no good.”

 

After that, Gwen seemed to relent and even apologized to Merlin for the whole incident. It felt genuine, but Merlin knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Ever since she had returned from the Dark Tower, she had been acting odd, but this? This was something else entirely. This wasn’t Gwen. 

 

Mordred had, of course, faced no punishment for breaking Merlin out of the cells. Yes, the idea of Merlin being able to significantly help Gaius enough to warrant such a thing was… ridiculous, but the knight had the excuse of being young. He was worried about his king, believed he was going to die, and was desperate enough to do just about anything to save him. That was, at least, what the other knights were led to believe. 

 

Arthur recovered quickly enough, and by the next day he was up and about. He wasn’t training with the knights, and he hadn’t left his chambers, but he was standing and walking for short periods of time before he had to sit and rest once more. Despite the poison being gone, it had still taken its toll on his body. 

 

“You saved my life.” Arthur mused, leaning back in the wooden chair. “Once again.”

 

“I wasn’t about to let you die.” Merlin said, as if there was no other possible course of action he could have taken.

 

“Still. Thank you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, truly. I know you would never wish me harm, and Guinevere knows that, too. She was just frightened. You understand?”

 

“She’s never been one to act without thought, Arthur.” Merlin argued softly, sitting in the chair across from him. “It wasn’t like her at all.”

 

“She panicked. You can’t hold that against her, surely?”

 

“Of course not.” Merlin agreed. “But something isn’t right here. Ever since she came back from the Dark Tower… she’s been acting odd. Different.”

 

“She was kidnapped, Merlin.” Arthur shook his head. “Of course she’s going to be a bit off for awhile. She’ll jump back. She always does.”

 

“Arthur.” Merlin pressed. “I don’t think that’s Gwen. She’s been enchanted.”

 

“Ridiculous.” Arthur placed his hands on the table. “She made a mistake in the heat of the moment. Don’t start throwing accusations around because of that.”

 

“Like she did to me?” Merlin asked. “I don’t want to believe this any more than you do, but something isn’t right.”

 

“That’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur said with finality. “I don’t want to hear anymore about this. And if any of your theories get back to Guinevere, I will be less than pleased. Do you understand?”

 

Merlin breathed in deeply through his nose. “Yes, sire.”

 

Getting Arthur to believe that Gwen was enchanted wouldn’t be easy. The idea of his wife wishing him any harm was difficult to comprehend, and maybe Merlin was wrong. Maybe Gwen really was just in shock. 

 

They’d just have to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you've noticed, but I quite like Mordred :)


	10. The False Druid

“You don’t even know who this boy is, Merlin.” Arthur tried to reason, looking at Merlin from his desk.

 

“He’s a druid.” Was all Merlin said in response.

 

Arthur sighed. “Yes. And if his sister needs treatment, he can take her to Gaius. I’m not going to persecute them for seeking medicine.”

 

“I know. That’s what I said.” Merlin shook his head, pacing across the chamber floor. “He didn’t believe me, and if his sister is as sick as he’s made it seem, I’m not sure she’d survive the trip anyhow.”

 

“The Valley of the Fallen Kings is dangerous.”

 

“Yes.” Merlin agreed. “But I have magic. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Merlin…”

 

“What would you have me do? Let this girl die?”

 

Arthur looked at him for a moment longer before sighing. “If you wish to help this girl, I will not stop you, but take Mordred with you.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “Why Mordred?” It always seemed to be Mordred nowadays.

 

“Because.” Arthur said simply. “He knows about the magic. If you plan on using it to defend yourself, it would be best if your secret was not divulged to more people.” He paused for a moment, as if thinking. “And he’s one of my most trusted knights.”

 

If only that weren’t so. “Alright.”

 

Mordred didn’t seem to mind the early trip. With the Sarrum arriving in Camelot for a peace treaty later that morning, Merlin couldn’t really blame him. The man hated magic more than Uther did. It was a wonder Arthur had even agreed to meet with him at all. If the man knew what Arthur had asked of Merlin, Sarrum would likely have refused to meet all together.

 

It didn’t matter that Merlin was loyal to Arthur. It didn’t matter that, as far as the man knew, Merlin had only begun to practice after his king asked it of him. The Sarrum would still have him strung up, tortured, and burned. 

 

Lovely man.

 

Perhaps that was part of the reason why Arthur had let him go so easily. He must have known how uncomfortable the man would make him. Or perhaps he feared Merlin would use magic in the open and get caught. 

 

Even if Arthur’s war on magic was at a bit of a stalemate, what with Merlin and all, his war with Morgana was still very much alive. He needed as many friends as he could get. 

 

The boy, Daegal, was waiting for them as expected at the entrance of the Darkling Woods. He turned, looking mildly relieved to see Merlin. That relief faded immediately upon seeing the knight standing next to him. 

 

“It’s alright.” Merlin placated at the boy’s panicked look. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

 

“Why did you bring him?” Daegal asked, taking a step backwards.

 

“The Valley of the Fallen Kings is a dangerous place.” Merlin supplied easily. “He’s just here for our protection.”

 

Daegal stared for a moment longer before nodding. At that, Merlin walked past the boy towards the valley. Daegal turned, running briefly to catch up.

 

“Did you get in trouble?”

 

“No.” 

 

“But you’re the king’s servant. And you took one of his knights.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “Arthur sent Mordred with me. He knows what I’m doing.”

 

“And he allowed it?” Daegal seemed genuinely shocked by this. “Does he know I’m a druid?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin confirmed. “It’s like I told you. Arthur doesn’t hunt druids anymore. Never really did outside his father’s rule. As long as you didn’t use magic, you and your sister would be welcome in Camelot.”

 

“And if I did?” The boy questioned softly. “If I did use magic?”

 

Merlin hesitated. What  _ would  _ Arthur do? He wouldn’t kill the boy for harmless magic. Uther would not have hesitated, but Arthur? Arthur was different. That was something it seemed like a lot of people still didn’t realize- Morgana being one of them. 

 

“Magic is still against the law.” Merlin answered finally. “But I don’t believe he’d have you executed, if that’s what your thinking. Not if you didn’t hurt anyone.”

 

Daegal didn’t respond, and silence fell upon the group. Mordred had yet to say anything, walking a few steps behind them. He must have noticed the boy’s discomfort and opted to keep a short distance between them. Daegal was a druid and Mordred a knight. It wasn’t as if Daegal knew that Mordred was indeed a druid as well. 

 

Moments like this always made Merlin feel incredibly torn. On one hand, Mordred was clearly a kind, considerate, young man who was loyal to a fault. On the other hand, that only made him more dangerous. The closer he got to Arthur, the more Arthur trusted him, the more damage he could do.

 

But damn it was hard  _ not  _ to like him.

 

They continued to walk for several hours. Daegel wasn’t particularly talkative, and he seemed to get only quieter the closer they got. His mother was also, apparently, a druid, but she had been killed many years ago by Uther’s raids. He didn’t speak of his father, so Merlin could only assume that he had never known the man. His sister was all he had left. It was no wonder he was so desperate to save her.

 

The sound of a twig snapping broke Merlin from his thoughts. He looked up, and a ground of bandits looked the be patrolling the area. That hadn’t seem to of spotted them yet, however.

 

_ “Bandits.”  _ Merlin spoke with his mind. Mordred responded immediately, ducking out of sight, but Daegal did not.  _ “Daegal, get down.”  _

 

The boy didn’t respond and instead continued to walk as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Merlin reached forward, grabbing the boy’s arm, and pulling him down to the ground.

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“Shh.” Merlin whispered, and finally the boy noticed the bandits walking nearby. “Did you hear me before?”

 

Daegal shook his head. “No.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. He glanced towards Mordred, who met his eyes with a confused look. Something wasn’t right here. 

 

“Thank you.” Daegal said as the bandits finally passed. “You saved my life.”

 

“It’s not safe yet.” Merlin stood, giving the boy a hand up. “Come on. The sooner we get to your sister, the better.”

 

Evening came upon them quickly after that. It wasn’t an hour later when Daegal began to slow. 

 

“We’re here.” Daegal nodded forward. “She’s just on the other side of those trees.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked. The boy’s hesitation was obvious. 

 

“Nothing.” Daegal shook his head. “I just hope she’s still alive.”

 

The boy began walking forward, and Merlin backed away a few steps, holding out an arm to stop Mordred was going any further.

 

“Stay here.” Merlin lowered his arm. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

 

“All the more reason I should go with you, Merlin.” Mordred tried to argue.

 

“There’s no point in both of us being hit with whatever coming next.”

 

“Arthur sent me to protect you.”

 

“And you will.” Merlin confirmed, turning fully towards him. “If something goes wrong, you can swoop in to rescue me, but you can’t do that if you’re caught in the net as well.”

 

Mordred hesitated before nodding slowly. “Alright. Just… be careful.”

 

“Aren’t I always?” Merlin didn’t wait to hear the incredulous snort as he turned back towards where Daegal had gone. He quickened his pace until he was next to the boy.

 

Daegal was visibly pale, and a quick look around showed no girl, ill or otherwise, in sight. Clearly, he was right to have distrusted the boy. 

 

Merlin dropped the pack of medicine on the ground. “There’s no one here.” He turned to face Daegal entirely. “Why have you brought me here? What is this?”

 

The boy took a step backwards. “I- I can explain.”

 

“You’re not a druid.” Merlin reached forward, grabbing Daegal’s arm. A quick pull of the boy’s sleeve revealed the druid mark he had shown him in the kitchens- except it was faded and rubbed off completely in some parts. It was a fake. “Who are you?”

 

Merlin eyes swiveled towards the movement several feet behind the boy. He didn’t even have time to process what he was seeing before he was flying backwards, hitting the ground hard enough to knock him out on impact.

 

He may not have gotten a good look, but he knew who it was. Who it must have been. 

 

Morgana. 

 

It was the first word on his mind when he finally awoke. It was a trap. A trap set by Morgana. And he had fallen for it. 

 

Funny how Morgana would use Merlin’s weakness for druids against him and yet still believe him an enemy of magic. 

 

“Merlin.” 

 

The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t a particularly comforting voice. Something was pressed against his lips, and water was soon being poured down his throat. He coughed harshly, white foam sputtering from his lips.

 

Poison. He had been poisoned.

 

That’s when he noticed the pain. The agony. Like sharp knives throughout his entire body. And his leg. His leg hurt especially so. He reached a hand towards it, flinching back with a gasp as his fingers touched the open wound. He had been injured along with being poisoned. How thoughtful of her.

 

“Merlin.”

 

It was that voice again. That same voice. It didn’t wish him harm, he knew that. But it still made him wary.

 

Hands were shaking his body, forcing his eyes to open. The face in front of him was beyond blurry. He had to blink several times before it came into focus. He nearly groaned in relief as he recognized the boy kneeling over him. Mordred. He had told Mordred to wait, and it had been a wise decision it would seem. Obviously Daegal had neglected to tell Morgana of Merlin’s knightly escort. She believed him to be alone and abandoned. She was wrong. 

 

If Mordred tried to carry him bridal style, so help him.

 

“What…” Merlin took in a sucking breath, fire radiating down his spine. “What…”

 

“You were poisoned.” Mordred answered slowly. “You fell down a bit of a cliff, too. Morgana was there. This whole thing was a trap.”

 

Yep. Got most of that. The cliff part was new information, though. It certainly explained the throbbing pain in his leg. 

 

_ “Ge hailige.”  _ Merlin barely heard the spell, but he did feel the pressure of Mordred’s hands against his chest.  _ “Ge hailige. Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare.”  _

 

A hand grabbed his leg, making him spasm and struggle against the touch. “No. Please.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to fix it. Just lie still.” Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one poisoned, burning with fever, and bleeding from what must have been a significant gash in his leg. Movement of his body wasn’t exactly within his own control at the moment. 

 

“Hold still.” Mordred tried again. “You’re going to make it worse.”

 

“I’m. Trying.” Merlin breathed, slamming his eyes shut as another wave of agony rolled over him. It wasn’t the leg. He’s had wounds like this before. He’d taken a mace to the chest once. He could handle that. He knew how they felt. 

 

But the poison. 

 

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been poisoned before either, but then, at least, he had been unconscious most of the time. The moments before and after had been less than fun, but then it had been over.

 

He was awake for this. His throat, filling with white foam that spilled out the side of his mouth. He tried to lean forward to spit it out once more, but the movement just caused more fire to race through him.

 

“I’m sorry.” That voice. Mordred. Right. “This… isn’t going to be pleasant, and I need you to keep still. I’m going to place you under a sleeping enchantment.”

 

“No.” Merlin tried to reach up to push the man away. “No. No. Don’t…”

 

A hand pressed against his forehead, forcing his head to stay against the ground.

 

“No. No.” He grabbed at the wrist. “Please.”

 

He could treat himself. He could reverse the poison. He just needed to figure out what poison it was. He couldn’t do that if he was asleep. Mordred wasn’t a physician. He wouldn’t be able to figure out it. He needed to stay awake. Don’t. No. Please.

 

_ “Swefe nu.” _

 

For a brief moment, just before falling unconscious, Merlin didn’t care if he was most certainly going to die. Just as long as the pain didn’t follow him.


	11. A Broken Alliance

Merlin’s eyes blinked open, and the soft blue of the early morning sky filled this vision. Morning. It had been evening, had it not? Before…

 

He sat up with a start. The red cape that had been laid across his front fell into his lap. Dagael. Morgana. Poison. Mordred. He turned his head to the right and, just a few feet away, laid Mordred, asleep in the grass. In front of both of them was the remnants of a small fire that the druid must have started the previous night.

 

“Mordred.” Merlin said sharply, forcing himself into a standing position. The poison was gone, thanks to Mordred, obviously, and his leg, while not completely healed, didn’t hurt as much as it had before. Despite that, he still felt incredibly worn, as if… well... as if he had been poisoned.

 

Mordred was startled into awakeness at Merlin’s voice and looked up at him in a clear mix of shock and relief. “Merlin!” He jumped to his feet, crossing the distance between them in a moment. “You’re alive.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

 

“Things got… rough… towards the end.” Mordred looked away, taking in a slow breath. “It didn’t seem like any of the spells were working. I wasn't sure you were going to make it.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m fine.” And then as an afterthought. “Thank you.” He rolled up the cape he had apparently been using as a blanket and handed it back to Mordred. “I wouldn’t have survived without your help.”

 

“I’m just glad it worked.” Mordred ran a hand through his hair. “What was the point, though? I know Morgana hates you, but it seemed like a lot of trouble to go through just to kill you.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head. “There has to be something more. This wasn’t about killing me. There are plenty of ways she could have done that.” His head turned sharply in the direction of Camelot. “Arthur.”

 

“What?” Mordred asked, taking off after Merlin when he began to run towards the city. “What about Arthur?”

 

“She was trying to get me out of the way. Something’s going to happen, I know it.”

 

“But she doesn’t know about your magic!” Mordred sprinted to keep up. Merlin was, as the boy would soon find out, much faster than he looked when he needed to be. “Why would she need to get you out of the way?!”

 

“I’ve stopped her plenty of times before without magic.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Well. She didn’t know I was using magic.”

 

“That sounds more accurate.”

 

Merlin didn’t have time to feel insulted as the pain from his leg flared up, causing him to lose his footing and fall to the ground with a cry.

 

“Merlin!”

 

He pushed away the hand on his shoulder, using a tree to heave himself up. “I’m fine.”

 

“Your leg.” Mordred argued. “I tried to heal it as much as I could, but I couldn’t fix it entierly.”

 

“It’ll have to do.” Merlin grounded out between clenched teeth and started back towards the castle. They were still a long ways out, and time was of the essence.

 

“Merlin.” Mordred protested. “You need to rest. You’re not well enough for this.”

 

“I can rest when Arthur is safe.”

 

“I’ll go ahead and warn Arthur, and then I’ll come back for you.”

 

Merlin shook his head, but otherwise didn’t respond. There was no way that was happening. He wasn’t going to put Arthur’s life in anyone else’s hands. Mordred seemed to realize there would be no convincing him, as the boy said nothing else.

 

They made surprisingly good time considering Merlin’s injury. The guards paid them no heed as they entered the gates. It was a good sign that nothing had happened yet at the very least.

 

“Arthur would be in the peace talks with the Sarrum by now.” Mordred answered the unspoken question.

 

Merlin nodded once in response and made his way through the halls he knew would lead to the council chambers. The slight opening of a door caught his eye, making him pause.

 

“What is it?”

 

“This should be locked.” He growled, running through the door and up the spiral staircase behind it. He slipped once, holding onto the handrail desperately as he made his way to the top.

 

A man Merlin didn’t recognize, but who wore the same armour as all the soldiers from Amata, looked towards them as they entered the balcony. The crossbow that had been pointed at Arthur was now pointed at Merlin. It was a simple task to reflect the arrow away from himself and into the wall. The man’s eyes widened at the obvious use of magic. He pulled two knives out of his jacket, throwing them both at Merlin. It was, again, easily diverted.

 

The man pulled out his sword at last and began to approach them. Mordred pulled out his own blade, putting himself in front of Merlin. Merlin had heard stories about the warriors of Amata. They were not to be trifled with- and Mordred still had much to learn.

 

Their swords clashed for several seconds, but it didn’t take long for Merlin to realize that Mordred was going to lose. The other man was far more skilled- far more practiced. And soon enough, he would go in for the kill.

 

Part of Merlin considered letting him do just that. Kill him. Then all your problems will be solved. Mordred will be dead. You’ll never have to worry about him again. Just let him die.

 

It didn’t stop Merlin from flashing his eyes gold and making the handle of the other man’s weapon burn red hot. Surprisingly, the man didn’t let go of the sword, but it was enough of a distraction for Mordred to run him through, killing him within seconds.

 

Merlin let out a sigh of relief as the dead man fell to the ground. Mordred was panting heavily, and Merlin slid down the rails of the balcony towards the ground. With the immediate danger gone, the sharp, throbbing ache in his leg began to become more and more obvious. He took in one pained breath before turning to glance below at Arthur.

 

Who was staring at him.

 

They all were staring at him. And Mordred.

 

Sarrum. Arthur. Gwen. All the knights, Amata and Camelot included. They were staring straight at them.

 

Merlin used the railing to force himself to his feet once more. Arthur didn’t look angry, just… shocked. Sarrum looked murderous… and so did Gwen. A quick glance at Mordred proved the boy to be just as conflicted as Merlin.

 

The idea of staying on the balcony and wishing everyone down there hadn’t seen anything was… inviting. But, alas, it was not an option.

 

It was almost a relief for Mordred to be stuck in this with him. If the Sarrum was going to try to strangle him, he appreciated the back up. Of course, he wasn’t the one that actually killed the man. That was on Mordred. But of course, Mordred wasn’t the one who had used magic.

 

Merlin’s blood ran ice cold. He had used magic. Multiple times. And apparently everyone had been watching. For how long? How long had they been watching? They wouldn’t have been able to see his eyes from there, and the magic hadn’t been obvious. It wasn’t as if he had stopped the knives in mid air and thrown them back at the man. It could have easily looked like the man just missed. They probably didn’t even notice anything until the sword fight began.

 

They didn’t see. They didn’t know. Oh god please, don’t let the Sarrum know he had magic. Camelot or not, under Arthur’s protection or not, that man would gut him. There would be no mercy.

 

“Mordred. Merlin.” Arthur greeted without cheer as they made their way into the main room. “What happened?”

 

“The door to the balcony was open, sire, so we went to investigate.” Merlin began, glancing back towards the balcony. “Lord Sarrum’s man had a crossbow pointed at the table. He attacked us, and, as you saw, Mordred bested him.”

 

“Yes.” Arthur said slowly, turning towards Sarrum. The Camelot knights had all drawn their swords at that point, preparing to defend their King and Queen, at all cost. Sarrum’s men had done the same.

 

“You cannot believe that I would order such a thing, Arthur.” The Sarrum argued. “I came here for peace, did I not?”

 

“I believed you had, yet the assassination attempt does not surprise me, given your reputation.” Arthur looked at the balcony. “That man. Albin, wasn’t it? He’s been by your side night and day. Your most loyal soldier. Do you expect _me_ to believe he would go against you to kill me?”

 

“It was _your_ Queen who proposed the idea. I turned her down. She must have convinced him to go through with it anyways.”

 

Despite the obvious lie, there had to be some truth in it. If Gwen had been in on this assasination attempt, that was proof in it and itself that she was enchanted. She would never harm Arthur of her own volition. Something would have to be done about her.

 

“And now you accuse my wife of treason.” Arthur’s eyes darkened. “My Queen has my complete trust. Your words will not turn me against her.”

 

“So what now, then.” Sarrum said coldly. “If you expect us to go quietly, I can assure you, my men will fight to their last breath. How many of your men will we take with us?”

 

“I do not wish to start a war between our lands, despite your dishonourable actions today.” Arthur raised his head, staring down at the shorter king. “But I will not have alliances with men I cannot trust. Camelot will not fall by the hand of her friends. You and your men will leave this place. Know that your actions here have not been forgotten nor forgiven, but instead put aside to spare the lives of the many who would suffer from the war retaliation would bring.”

 

The tension in the air was tangible, and the knights weren’t the only ones preparing to fight if need be. At the very least, it didn’t appear that anyone saw him using magic.

 

“Very well, King Arthur.” Sarrum said after a long pause. “We will leave your kingdom.”

 

“And never return.”

 

“We shall see.”

 

It was a thinly veiled threat, but Arthur didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he said nothing at all until Sarrum had turned with his men and left the room.

 

Arthur turned to Leon. “I want every available man watching them. Make sure they leave the city. Have some men trail them for a while to be safe.”

 

Leon was quick to obey, and all the knights besides Mordred followed him.

 

He turned to Mordred next. “Take Guinevere somewhere safe and protect her until Sarrum and his men are gone.”

 

Guinevere didn’t protest as she was led out of the room, likely too upset by the failure to care about much else. It left only Arthur, Merlin, and Gaius in the large room.

 

“I suppose I should thank you.” Arthur said at last. “For saving my life. Again.”

 

“It was Mordred, not me.”

 

“I fought Albin, and I lost. There’s no way Mordred could have beat him without some kind of magical assistance.” The king sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe you used magic while in the same room as _the Sarrum of Amata_. You should just be grateful no one else noticed.”

 

“And what?” Merlin asked defensively. “Should I have let him kill Mordred? Or should I have let him shoot you to begin with? Believe me, I didn’t exactly want to risk myself like that. The man is… admittedly terrifying.”

 

“Where have you been anyways?!” Arthur dropped the previous argument. “I expected the two of you to be back by nightfall, but you never came. I was about to send out a search party for you.”

 

“It was a trap.” Merlin admitted, sighing. “Morgana met us there. I was poisoned.” Gaius seemed alarmed by that despite Merlin clearly no longer suffering from the effects. “Mordred… managed to find the herbs I needed to reverse the effects.”

 

“I knew something was off about that situation. Who would leave their dying sister alone in the Valley of the Fallen Kings?” Arthur was growing visibly angry. “I’ll send knights out to capture the boy at once.”

 

“You mean the knights you don’t have watching Sarrum?” Merlin questioned. “Just let it go. He’s not going to be causing anymore trouble.”

 

“He tried to kill you.”

 

“No, he just tried to lead me to my death. Big difference.”

 

“Merlin.” It was Gaius this time, who placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you injured otherwise?”

 

“No.” Gaius raised an eyebrow at the response, and Merlin relented. “I hurt my leg when I fell down the cliff.”

 

“The _cliff_?!” Arthur interjected.

 

“It was a short cliff.” He rolled up his pant leg to reveal the wound. “Mordred used- uh, he treated it as best as he could. I tried using magic to heal it, but healing yourself can be difficult.”

 

“Gaius, will you…” Arthur gestured towards the round table, and Gaius pulled out a chair, forcing Merlin to sit in it.

 

The physician grabbed at the leg, making Merlin wince as he turned it to get a better look.

 

Merlin glanced up at Arthur who was staring at him with concern. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’ve been getting hurt a lot lately.”

 

“Well perhaps the Gods are upset with me.”

 

“For using magic?”

 

“I was thinking for being cheeky.” That got a snort out of Arthur, and Merlin claimed it as a victory. “You did well. With the Sarrum.”

 

“I’m glad I’ve earned your approval.”

 

“I mean it.” Merlin pressed. “You were put in a difficult position. I’m not sure what I would have done.”

 

“Good thing you’ll never have to make those kind of decisions then.”

 

“Indeed.” Merlin agreed, letting out a breath as Gaius let go of the leg.

 

“It needs to be wrapped.” Gaius concluded. “But you did well to heal what you could. Now what of the poison? Do you know what it was?”

 

Merlin shook his head. “No, and I was unconscious when she gave it to me.”

 

“Hm.” Gaius sighed. “It seems to have left your system.”

 

“Yeah, well, like I said.” Merlin shrugged. “Mordred was able to get the herbs I needed.” He turned to Arthur. “What the Sarrum said. About Gwen.”

 

“No.” Arthur said stiffly. “Don’t you dare. You’ve been friends with Guinevere since you came to Camelot. Don’t you turn on her now. She’s earned more respect than that.”

 

“I’m not turning on her.” Merlin stood from the chair, ignoring Gaius’s muted protests. “Gwen is my friend, like you said, and I’m worried about her. She would never try to harm you if she was in her right mind. I’m telling you, she’s enchanted.”

 

“Enough! I said I didn’t want to hear another word about this.” Arthur turned towards Gaius. “Do what you can for his leg, I’ll be in my chambers.”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin called out as Arthur began to leave the room, but Arthur didn’t respond, and the door closed shut behind him.

 

If they weren’t careful, Gwen was going to kill them all. Convincing Arthur of this would be the next step, but what a difficult step it would be.


	12. An Enchantment Uncovered

Merlin opened the door to Arthur’s chambers, sticking only his head inside the room. “Come with me.” He didn’t wait for a response before walking away and letting the door fall shut behind him. For a moment, it seemed as if Arthur wasn’t going to come, but then the door opened once more.

 

“Excuse me?” Arthur asked, fortunately still fortunately dressed. It was late, and the possibility of the king already being prepared for bed had not been unlikely- even if Merlin hadn’t shown up to assist. “Where the hell have you been?”

 

“Come.” Merlin gestured down the hall with his head. Arthur didn’t move however, his eyes narrowing instead. “Please. It’s important.” Still nothing. “It has to do with Morgana.”

 

That caught Arthur’s attention, and he finally left the doorway of his chambers. “What about her? Has she been spotted?”

 

“Just come. Please.” Merlin turned and made his way down the hall. Arthur’s curiosity, as well as concern, would be enough to guarantee his cooperation at this point. 

 

Arthur caught up to him after a few seconds, looking more and more irritated by the second. “You better have a good reason for dragging me around the castle at this time of night.”

 

“I do.”

 

They left the citadel, and then the courtyard, passing through the gates. They were stopped only once by patrolling guards who merely apologized when they saw their king. 

 

“Did you actually need me to come, or did you just want a way around the guards?” Arthur asked as they entered the forest. As if Merlin needed Arthur’s help to get around the guards. “Where the  _ hell  _ are we going?”

 

“Shh.” Merlin whispered, hiding himself behind the thick trunk of a tree.

 

“Merlin!”

 

“Shush!”

 

Surprisingly, Arthur did so. He took Merlin’s cue and hid behind another tree a few feet away. “What is this-”

 

“You’re late.” The familiar voice of Morgana stopped Arthur in his tracks. 

 

“I’m sorry.” It was Gwen who responded.

 

Arthur peered out from behind his tree to look at the two, several feet in front of him. Arthur needed to know, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier to see him so distraught. 

 

“Was there a problem?”

 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

 

“Did you get what I asked for?”

 

Gwen handed Morgana what looked like a scroll of some sorts. “It wasn't easy. It details the route the levy collection will take, the names of the knights, their arms, and the day they depart.”

 

Morgana smiled, taking the scroll. “You’ve done well, Gwen.”

 

The sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard forced Merlin to look away from the pair and towards Arthur. He looked furious and so, so lost. So hurt. 

 

“No. Arthur.” Merlin tried to make eye contact with him, but Arthur refused to look away from the scene unfolding in front of him. “Now is not the time.”

 

“Kill her.” Arthur said sharply. “Kill Morgana.”

 

“No, Arthur-”

 

“I order you to kill her.”

 

“I  _ can’t _ .” Merlin protested. “Not with Gwen crossfire. I could hurt her.”

 

With those words, his fury seemed to fade into sorrow. “How could she do this do me?” 

 

“She's not the Gwen you love. She has fallen prey to a dark and powerful magic.”

 

“If I lose her, I lose everything.”

 

“We’ll find a way to bring her back.” Merlin promised. “She’s not lost yet.”

 

Arthur hadn’t wanted to leave Gwen with Morgana, but they had had no choice. It wasn’t as if she was in any danger from the sorceress. Morgana wouldn’t kill her spy. As long as she was unaware of their knowledge, Gwen would be perfectly safe.

 

The two of them made their way to Gaius’s chambers. Arthur was unusually quiet, and Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to blame the man. He had nearly lost Gwen not long ago, but he had gotten her back. Or so he had thought. 

 

“You believe she was enchanted at the Dark Tower?” Arthur asked at last.

 

“I can think of no other time.” Merlin confirmed. “When else could it have happened?”

 

“But why?” Arthur shook his head. “If Morgana was going to enchant her, why bother kidnapping her? It would have been much simpler to put a poultice under her pillow in Camelot.”  

 

“And much easier to reverse, sire.” Gaius added. “If Gwen has suffered what I suspect, then there is no easy remedy.”

 

“You know what happened to her?” Merlin asked, looking up from his book of enchantments. 

 

“When I was young, I heard about an ancient ritual of the Old Religion called the Teine Diaga.” Gaius began. “The ritual used the mandrake root to bring unimaginable terror to the victim. Their screams could be heard twenty leagues away. When it was finally over, their will was no longer their own. They were slaves of the high priestesses for eternity.”

 

“How do we cure her?” Arthur stepped forward, placing his hands on the table.

 

“I've told you all I know.” Gaius admitted. “Such mysteries were revealed only to a handful of female initiates. As a boy, I was privy only to rumors.”

 

Merlin looked away. “There must be someone who can help.”

 

“I can think of only two people who truly knew the old ways. One is Morgana Pendragon. The other… is the Dochraid.”

 

“The Dochraid?” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

 

“The Dochraid is a creature of the Earth. If anyone would know how to release Gwen from an enchantment such as this, it would be her.”

 

“Then we must go to her.” 

 

“I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, sire.” Gaius closed his book. “The Dochraid cannot be trusted. She would consider Morgana her ally. She will not help you willingly.”

 

“We will have to force her then.” Merlin said quietly. “To save Gwen.”

 

“If she discovers your magic, Merlin.” Gaius warned. “She will tell Morgana.”

 

“I’ll be careful.” Merlin promised. He turned back toward Arthur. “I’ll go after the Dochraid.”

 

“I will go with you.”

 

“No, Arthur. You must stay here. Gwen will only get suspicious if you disappear. If she finds out what we’re doing, she’ll tell Morgana.” 

 

Arthur didn’t argue this, nodding in reluctant agreeance. “Be careful.”

 

“I will.” Merlin turned away, hesitated, then turned back to the king. “Can I borrow your sword?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “She’s a creature of the Earth. My powers won’t be able to hurt her, but the sword from the stone? That can hurt her.” Probably. 

 

Arthur relented, released the sword from the scabbard and handing it over to Merlin. “Don’t lose it.”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes, taking the sword. “I won’t.”

 

Arthur let out one last breath as he turned to leave the room and return to his quarters. It would be difficult to explain if he was out and about when Gwen returned. Though, Gwen would need to explain her own absence as well. 

 

“Merlin.” Gaius said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You must take care. The Dochraid musn’t recognize you.”

 

“I’ll use an aging spell.” Merlin concluded. “At worst, she’ll tell Morgana that Emrys is going to cure Gwen. That might just be enough to scare her off anyways.”

 

The sword, as it turned out, ended up being very useful. Despite being recognized as Emrys, the creature had not been inclined to assist. He didn’t enjoy hurting her, but he could not allow Gwen to be lost. It would destroy Arthur, and more than that, she was his friend. He wouldn’t abandon her. 

 

Getting Gwen to the Cauldron of Arainrhod would be difficult in it of itself. Getting her to walk into the waters willingly was another story entierly. And summoning the White Goddess herself? That was magic more powerful than anything he had ever done before. It could be beyond him. 

 

“This tincture of Belladona, what are its effects?” Arthur took hold of the bottle of medicine, looking carefully at the contents.

 

“The patient is rendered into a deep sleep.” Gaius responded.

 

“Patient?” Arthur looked up in confusion. 

 

“It is generally used for the badly wounded.” He explained, taking the bottle back from the king. 

 

“How long does it last?”

 

“A few hours. It has to be administered several times a day to provide a continuous sleep.”

 

“But for no more than three days.” Merlin interjected.

 

Arthur looked towards him. “Or?”

 

Merlin hesitated. “The body will not tolerate it.”

 

Arthur closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Summoning this Goddess… it will require magic?”

 

“Yes, sire.” Gaius confirmed. “It is a ritual that can only be performed by a sorcerer.”

 

Arthur nodded, turning to Merlin. “Can you do it?”

 

“This is… powerful magic.” Merlin admitted. “I’m certainly willing to try.”

 

“But you don’t know.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “I’ve never tried anything like this before. Not even close. I can’t guarantee anything.”

 

Arthur sighed quietly. “I suppose we don’t have a choice. It’s not like we have another sorcerer hidden somewhere that might stand a better chance.”

 

There was Mordred, of course, but if Merlin couldn’t do the spell, he doubted Mordred could. Even if there was someone else, Merlin was still probably the best choice. If they failed, however, there was still the question of what they would do with Gwen. They couldn’t let her continue giving Morgana information. Merlin truthfully doubted that Arthur could ever bring himself to execute her- especially considering it wasn’t her fault in the first place. That  _ thing  _ was not Gwen. It was not his wife. Would she be locked up somewhere where she could do no harm? Would Arthur visit her daily, desperately trying to find his wife somewhere inside? Would she be kept as comfortable as possible while also being a prisoner? Would she go mad? Could Arthur do that? To his own wife? 

 

No. They needed to save her. There was no point in thinking about the alternatives should they fail. They could not fail. Merlin couldn’t fail. It wasn’t just Gwen’s life on the line anymore. It was Arthur’s soul as well.

 

Once Merlin and Arthur left Camelot with the unconscious Queen in tow, it was only a matter of keeping her asleep and making it to the cauldron within the three day limit. They ran into no bandits or other troubles along the way, which was fortunate indeed. It wasn’t until Merlin fell down the steep rocky wall, because of course he would, and knocked himself unconscious, because of course he would, that they ran into any kind of problem. Arthur had climbed down the wall after him, because of course he would, and had managed to fall himself and get his arm trapped under one of the larger boulders. Mordred, who had been following them,  _ because of course he would _ , had appeared just in time to help Arthur out from under the boulder and get Gwen and Merlin, now both unconscious, to a safer place.

 

“It does not seem possible.” Mordred mused. By the time Merlin had awoken, a small camp had been formed with a fire roaring in the middle. “The Queen has the sweetest of natures.”

 

“It was never her. Just Morgana.” Arthur stared into the fire. “I’m sorry I did not confide in you.”

 

“It's best you didn't. If I hadn't had my suspicions, I wouldn't have followed you.”

 

“I’m glad you did.” Arthur said at last, and Merlin, despite himself, couldn’t help but agree. He had proved himself useful these past few weeks. With so much on the line, having another person to defend Gwen, one he could still use his magic around, could be helpful. 

 

“We’ll reach the Caldron by tomorrow.” Merlin added. 

 

“And what then?” Mordred asked, looking over towards Gwen.

 

“I must… summon the White Goddess to heal her.” Mordred’s eyes widened slightly. He obviously knew how powerful this magic was, and his reaction was not comforting. “It must be done.”

 

“I’m certain you will succeed.” Mordred said after a pause. 

 

“Are you familiar with this ritual?” Arthur asked. “Do the druids know much of it?”

 

“I have heard of the White Goddess.” Mordred began slowly, glancing very briefly at Merlin. “I know it is no easy feat to summon her, but it can be done. And if anyone could do it, it would be Merlin.”

 

Arthur shook his head very slightly. “He’s only been learning for a few months, and he’s never summoned anything before. This is all new territory for him.”

 

Mordred froze for a moment, realizing his mistake. Arthur, at least, didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Yes, but he’s been learning very quickly. He has much potential.”

 

Even with Arthur unaware of Mordred’s magic, being a druid gave him some insight on the subject- or at least, that is what the king would assume. “So you believe he can do it?”

 

“I do.”

 

“It’s time.” Merlin interrupted, looking towards Arthur. Sitting there while the two of them talked about him was making him incredibly uncomfortable- and a little bit irritated. 

 

“I’ll do it.” Arthur stood, grabbing the bottle of Belladona. 

 

“Two drops only.” Merlin reminded him, but Arthur didn’t respond.

 

Mordred watched the king leave, then turned his attention back towards Merlin. “I wish I could assist you in this ritual. I fear my power would not be strong enough.”

 

“I would not have you reveal yourself to Arthur.” Merlin said dismissively. Arthur was fine with his own magic because he had asked Merlin to learn it. If he was aware that Merlin had had magic before then… things would be different. Arthur didn’t know about the lies. He didn’t know about the number of times he’s used magic in the past. Mordred revealing his own self could procure a similar reaction.

 

“I would do so. To save the Queen.” Mordred said quietly. “She does not deserve what has happened to her.”

 

“No.” Merlin agreed. “She does not.” Nor did Arthur. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With all my heart is the last episode. This chapter isn't all that different, but tomorrow....
> 
> :)


	13. A Call for Judgement

“What’s the meaning of these banners?” Mordred asked as they made their way down the gravel road. Long spears with flags on their tips were thrusted into the ground on both sides. 

 

“Marks the way for pilgrims.” Merlin explained. “This is a sacred site for those who follow the Old Religion.”

 

“How do you know such things?” Arthur glanced backwards towards Merlin, Gwen still asleep in his arms.

 

“I’ve been studying.” 

 

There was a pause after that. “How much further?”

 

“Not far.” Merlin answered. “This gorge leads to the cauldron.” 

 

The screech of what Merlin recognized immediately to be a dragon forced them all to turn. It was Aithusa, who flew right above them, breathing fire in their path.

 

“Here!” Arthur cried out, leading the group to a cluster of boulders that would protect them from the flames. He peered out from behind the rocks. “Morgana must be close.”

 

“Go.” Merlin said, turning to Arthur. “I’ll do what I can.”

 

“No.”

 

“You must!”

 

“You’re the only one who can do the ritual!” Arthur argued. 

 

“The ritual isn’t going to happen if we’re all dead!” 

 

Aithusa swept by the boulder once more, and the group took cover best they could.

 

“Get Gwen to safety, my lord.” Mordred spoke at last. “We’ll cover you beyond the gorge.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “No. Go with them. You’ll need to do the ritual if Morgana bests me.”

 

“I’m not strong enough, Merlin. You’re the only one that can, and you’ll have a greater chance of surviving if I’m here to help you.”

 

Arthur stared at them both for a long moment, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It took Merlin a moment to realize why. “You have magic?”

 

Mordred froze, then nodded, glancing towards Merlin. He didn’t seem upset with Merlin for revealing him, just incredibly wary. Nervous, even. “Yes, sire.” It must have been difficult to admit, but there was no point in denying it- not when Merlin had all but revealed him just moments before. 

 

Arthur didn’t do anything for several seconds, and the dragon swooped down upon them once more. 

 

“Arthur.” Merlin said, forcing the king’s attention away from the druid. “Get Gwen to safety. We’ll take care of Morgana.”

 

“Very well.” Arthur relented. He gave Mordred one last glance before leaving the two of them in search of safer grounds. 

 

Merlin looked to Mordred. “I’m sorry, I-” He had revealed Mordred’s magic to Arthur. It had been an accident- a true and genuine accident- and even Mordred hadn’t seemed to realize what he had said until Arthur spoke up. But he had done it nonetheless. What had he done?  _ What had he done? _

 

“It is no matter.” Mordred interrupted, sounding far too calm after what just happened. Merlin would have been furious if the situation had been reversed, but Mordred seemed… not relaxed- he still had an edge of stiffness in his frame that gave away his concern- but far more collected than Merlin would have anticipated. “We’re hiding from a dragon behind a rock. You can be forgiven for a slip of the tongue in this instance, I would think.”

 

Arthur wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t. Merlin  _ knew _ he wouldn’t. But if he did. If by some chance Arthur decided to execute him…

 

This was Merlin’s fault. He wouldn’t let the boy die. 

 

Another blast of fire hit the rocks. “I’ll divert the dragon.” Merlin said, and he didn’t wait for Mordred’s response as he left the relative safety of the rocks and ran towards the road. Aithusa shot towards him, and Merlin raised a hand.  _ “Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai!” _

 

The creature turned unwilling at the words, flying away from the cauldron and out of sight.

 

“What happened?” Mordred asked, running up to Merlin.

 

“Come on.” Was the only answer Merlin gave, taking off in the direction Arthur had gone.

 

“The dragon…”

 

“We need to move-”

 

The two of them went flying forward, landing hard on the ground. Morgana. Merlin glanced at Mordred, who seemed to have hit the ground harder than he had as the boy was now unconscious. 

 

“The traitor and the servant.” Morgana said calmly as Merlin stood. “I should have known.”

 

She raised her hand to attack them once more, but Merlin moved quicker. With a flash of his eyes, Morgana was launched backwards. She recovered quickly, looking at him in shock.

 

“You.” She growled. “Magic?”

 

“Go, Morgana.” Merlin responded. “Go now, and I will spare you.”

 

She let out a laugh. “Spare me? You may have your tricks, but I am still a high priestess. If you think you can defeat me, then you are greatly mistaken.” Morgana raised a hand, her eyes flashing gold.  _ “Stanas ahreosaþ!” _

 

At first it appeared as if nothing had happened, but the rock fall came soon after. Merlin held out his hand, pushing the falling rocks away from the two of them. Dust filled Merlin’s vision, blocking both Morgana and Mordred from his sight. As Morgana was most certainly outside the dust cloud, she had the advantage.

 

He felt around on the ground, hoping to at least find Mordred, but was unsuccessful. He took in a breath of the dust, a harsh cough following. Merlin stumbled back as one of the rocks from the ground struck the side of his head, making a small amount of blood trickle down his face. Another rock whizzed by, missing him by inches. This was immediately followed by another large rock that hit him straight in the chest. It wasn’t hard enough to break any ribs, but it would certainly leave a nasty bruise.

 

Morgana didn’t need to know exactly where he was. Many of the rocks missed their target, but many hit him straight on. Merlin tried to throw rocks back in her direction, but he had no idea where she was. She could be on the other side of the dust cloud for all he knew. If she managed to knock him out, it would be over. He would die. Mordred would die. Arthur would most probably die. Gwen would never be healed. 

 

He needed to get out of the dust, but Mordred was still there- unconscious. Morgana would kill him. He couldn’t just  _ leave  _ him. A hand suddenly grabbed his arm, forcibly pulling him several feet away.

 

“We must hurry.” Mordred said, now clearly awake. The dust began to fade at last, revealing Morgana unconscious on the road. Mordred must have managed to take her out while Merlin was still blinded.

 

Merlin ran down the road with Mordred until they finally reunited with Arthur, still holding Gwen in his arms.

 

“Morgana?” He asked, peering down the road.

 

“As long as we’re quick, she won’t be a problem.” Merlin answered. “Place her down here.” He walked over towards the pool of water. Arthur obeyed, placing Gwen down as gently as possible onto the rocks. “Once I awaken her from her sleep, she will need to enter the water of her own will. You cannot force her.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “She’s not going to do that.”

 

“We must try.” Merlin pressed. “You must reach her.” He crouched down, placing his hand on the Queen’s head.  _ “Gielde ic þec þissa meowles sawol, gyden æblæce.”  _

 

A moment later, Gwen’s eyes began to open. Once awake, she sat up quickly, looking around in confusion and shock. “Where am I? What have you done to me?” She stood and backed away from Merlin, unknowingly walking straight into Arthur’s arms. 

 

“You’ve been asleep for a long time.” Arthur answer, taking Gwen’s wrists into a gentle but firm hold. 

 

“Get away from me!” Gwen tried to run, but Arthur’s hold on her was too strong.

 

“Guinevere. My Guinevere…”

 

“Your Guinevere?” Gwen scoffed, fighting against the hold. “You stupid, foolish man. I was never yours and never will be.”

 

“You loved me once.”

 

“You are easily fooled, Arthur.”

 

“And still do.”

 

“It was a trick, nothing more. A subterfuge to pass Camelot to its rightful Queen.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

 

“Believe what you like. The fact remains!”

 

Arthur began pulling Gwen towards the water, making Merlin call out. “No, Arthur. It must be of her own will.”

 

Arthur glanced at Merlin, pulling Gwen close to him. “Look at me. Tell me you don’t love me.”

 

“Let me go!”

 

“Arthur!” Merlin called out once more. They didn’t have time. He couldn’t be forceful. He needed to reach her, and this wasn’t how he was going to do it.

 

Arthur paused, taking a breath. “Do you remember when I asked you to marry me? Do you remember what you said? You said, ‘With all my heart.’ That's what you said, Guinevere. That was no subterfuge. No trickery.” 

 

Gwen’s struggling slowed, and Arthur released her arms slowly. The haze of hatred in his eyes began to fade. Merlin hadn’t been sure as to how Arthur was going to reach her, but he had managed to do it nonetheless. 

 

Arthur began walking backwards towards the cauldron. “With all my heart.”

 

“With all my heart.” Gwen whispered softly, watching her husband back into the water.

 

“Come.” Arthur reached out a hand towards her. “Please, my love. Come.”

 

Slowly, Gwen made her way towards the pool, taking Arthur’s hand into her own.

 

_ “Yfel gaest, ga thu fram thisselichaman. Bith hire mod eft freo. Ar ond heofonutungol sceal thurhswithan.”  _ Merlin’s eyes glowed gold, and a white light began to envelope both Arthur and Gwen.

 

It lasted several seconds before fading. Gwen wrapped her arms around Arthur in an embrace, and Merlin let out a breath of relief. Gwen was back. Gwen was safe. Their Queen was returned to them.

 

“Arthur…” Gwen whispered, placing her head against his chest. 

 

He wrapped his arms around her. “You’re alright. All is well now, I promise you.”

 

They made their way out of the water, Arthur reluctant to release her from his hold. Gwen didn’t seem to mind in any case. Once they reached the land, she gently removed herself from Arthur and wrapped her arms around Merlin. 

 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, and Merlin could feel her trembling against him. 

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

 

“I tried to kill you. Twice.” She closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself should I have succeeded.” The enchantment may have been broken, but it seemed like the memories had remained. Merlin, at least, had never remembered any of his attempts against Arthur’s life. Gwen, apparently, had not been so fortunate. 

 

“It wasn’t you, Gwen.” Merlin consoled. “It was the enchantment. You are not to blame.”

 

She pulled back, looking him in the eyes. “You’re far too forgiving, Merlin.” Gwen turned back towards Arthur. “I tried to kill you, too. I poisoned you... Arthur…” The idea of Arthur dying would have been horrifying enough, but to know it had almost been by her own hand...

 

“It’s like Merlin said, Guinevere.” He placed a kiss against her forehead. “You are not at fault. I am merely relieved to have you back.”

 

A moment of confusion passed over her face. “How did you… There was a spell. I remember. Someone…” She turned back towards Merlin. “I don’t understand.”

 

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s much to explain, and I will tell you everything. No more secrets. I promise.”

 

They made camp not far from the Cauldron. Merlin prepared the flint to start the fire but stopped when Arthur spoke. 

 

“Not like that.” Arthur said gently, and Merlin looked up at him, glancing at Gwen. 

 

Arthur nodded once, and Merlin let out short breath.  _ “Forbaerne.” _

 

Gwen flinched away at the use of magic, looking at Merlin with wide, uncertain eyes.

 

“I asked Merlin to learn magic to give us an upper hand against Morgana.” Arthur admitted. “I did not tell you because I knew you would not approve. I’m sorry.”

 

“The book…” She said softly, her eyes never leaving Merlin’s. “It was for you, not Arthur.”

 

Merlin nodded. “Yes.” Gwen didn’t speak, looking away from him as if in deep thought. “I’m still the same person. I’m… I’m not evil, Gwen.” Please don’t think he was evil. Please don’t hate him because of this. Please. 

 

Gwen’s head snapped back towards him. “I know. Oh, Merlin, I know.” She stood when Merlin looked away, crossing the camp to wrap her arms around him once again. “I don’t think you could ever be evil.” She looked towards Arthur. “How could you ask this of him? After we saw what it did to Morgana.”

 

“Because it’s as you said.” Despite his defense, the guilt was evident in his voice. “Merlin couldn’t ever be evil. It’s not within his nature, and I needed magic, Guinevere. If I hadn’t had him learn magic all those months ago, I would not have had a way to cure you today. I would have lost you. Magic is a resource I cannot be without entirely.”

 

Gwen nodded slowly in understanding. “I see.” She turned back towards Merlin, taking his arms in a tight hold. “Just. Promise me. Promise me you won’t let this consume you.”

 

It was an easy thing to agree to. “I swear. Magic isn’t going to change me.” If magic was going to change him, it would have done so a long time ago. 

 

“It better not.”

 

To Merlin’s relief, Gwen’s apprehension over the magic was more in concern for Merlin, rather than any fear or hatred of the man. Perhaps if she knew the truth, it would be different, but for now, he was content with his friend’s acceptance. Had she thought him a monster, he wasn’t sure what he would have done. 

 

They were nearly back to Camelot when Mordred finally spoke up about what had occurred earlier. “Sire... I am sorry I did not speak to you of my magic. I didn’t know what you would do if you found out.”

 

“I understand, Mordred.” Arthur said after a moment. “I’ve not been the most welcoming towards the practice, and it  _ is _ still against the law.” He looked towards the boy. “But you are a druid. I should have known it was a possibility. Things will change soon enough, I’m sure. There was more to having Merlin learn magic than to use against Morgana after all.”

 

Merlin looked up. “What?”

 

There was a long pause. “I wanted to know if magic was truly corrupting. If you showed any sign of such a thing, I would have had you stop immediately, and I trusted you to do so. You’re not exactly the power hungry type.” Arthur hesitated. “I’m sorry for using you in such a way, but I needed to know for certain. I couldn’t allow the executions to continue with these doubts in my mind. I have no desire to kill an innocent.” He glanced back towards Merlin. “I needed to know. I’m sorry.”

 

Arthur didn’t want a weapon. Of course he didn’t want a weapon. That was ridiculous. He had wanted to know if magic was truly corrupting, and he trusted Merlin to give up the practice if it proved to be so. 

 

“What’s your conclusion, then?” Merlin said finally.

 

“You saved my wife.” Arthur said simply. “In the months you’ve been using magic, I’ve seen you do no evil. I think you’ve proven my point well enough.”

 

Merlin smiled. “Yeah.” He spoke softly enough that he wasn’t sure Arthur even heard him. “I’m glad.”

 

“Mordred has magic then?” Gwen spoke up, and all heads turned towards her.

 

“Oh.” Arthur said. “Yes. Sorry.” He shrugged at Gwen’s raised eyebrow. “I didn’t find out until yesterday either. He helped Merlin take out Morgana.” He paused. “What happened there anyways?”

 

“She knows.” Merlin said quietly. “I’m sorry. She saw. When we left she was unconscious. By the time we returned, she was gone.”

 

“It was only a matter of time.” Arthur sighed. “It merely means we must be more careful. You could be targeted more now. Does she know of Mordred’s magic?”

 

“Yes.” Mordred confirmed. “She always has. Since I was a child.”

 

Arthur nodded. “So much for a secret weapon, I suppose.” 

 

“Halt!” The group stopped as three men appeared before them, all dressed in brown robes.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Arthur asked. “Allow us to pass.”

 

“I cannot do that, my lord.” The man in the middle spoke, turning to Merlin instead. “The Disir has called judgement upon you, Merlin.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “The Disir? We’ve already spoken to them. They nearly killed one of my knights.”

 

“Indeed.” The man said, never looking away from Merlin. “You interfered with the Disir’s judgement on Arthur Pendragon. You had no right to do such a thing. By healing the druid boy, you have angered the Triple Goddess. You must face your own judgement now.”

 

“Merlin was following my orders.” Arthur argued. “The fault lies with me.”

 

“You have already faced judgement, my lord. Now it is his turn. He will come with us.”

 

“No.” Arthur shook his head. “He will be going nowhere with you.”

 

“If he will not come willingly, then he shall be taken by force.”

 

“Merlin will  _ not  _ be going with you.”

 

“So be it.”

 

And then there was only darkness. 


	14. Punishment and Prophecies

The feeling of one’s knees being dragged along the forest floor wasn’t a pleasant thing to wake up to. Merlin’s eyes snapped open, and he found his footing, but the two men holding his arms did not release him. Instead they continued to walk forward, dragging Merlin along with them. He jerked in their grasp, but their hold was strong.

 

He was pushed back down to his knees as they entered the familiar cave, and in front of him stood the Disir themselves. 

 

“What is this?” Merlin asked at last, looking up at the three women. “Why have you brought me here?”

 

“The Triple Goddess made judgement upon your king.”

 

“You interfered with that judgement.”

 

“No one is above the Gods.”

 

“Not even you, Emrys.”

 

“And now you must pay the price.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “All I did was heal a dying man. There is no evil in that.”

 

“We never claimed any evil in your heart.”

 

“Only arrogance.”

 

“And insolence.”

 

“Much like your king.”

 

“You will face your own judgement now.”

 

“The judgement of the Triple Goddess.”

 

“No.” Merlin tried to stand, but he was pushed back down. He raised his hand towards the women instead.  _ “Hleap on bæc.”  _ But nothing happened.

 

“You would think to attack us.”

 

“In our sacred place.”

 

“You cannot best us here, Emrys.”

 

“Not when the Triple Goddess protects us.”

 

A third robed man walked forward, holding a wooden box in his hands. He placed one hand over the box, closing his eyes.  _ “Aweax þu meteþearfende. Þicge þu þone drycræft þe þinan deorcan mode gefylþ.” _ Once the spell was finished, he placed the box in front of Merlin, and slid the lid open. A large, slug-like creature began to make its way out of the box and towards Merlin. 

 

Merlin struggled against the two men’s hold, but they were firm, keeping him on his knees. “Stop. Don’t.”

 

“This is your judgement, Emrys.”

 

“You brought this upon yourself.”

 

“To think yourself better than the Gods.”

 

“This is your punishment.”

 

The slug lept towards him, latching onto his face. The men finally let go, and Merlin grabbed at the creature, falling backwards on the ground. It wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t breath. He pulled at it, scratched at it, but it would not release its hold.

 

Finally, after what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, but had felt like much longer, the slug fell to the ground and slithered back towards the box. Merlin didn’t care enough to question why, instead standing, and sprinting out of the cave as fast as he could. It was dark now, but he made his way through the forest nonetheless. He didn’t care where he was going, as long as he was away from there- away from the Disir. They would be coming after him, surely. He had to get as much distance as possible before then.

 

But there were black spots forming over his eyes. Whatever that creature did, or was trying to do, it drained him. He couldn’t go much farther. He wouldn’t make it. He had to keep running. Get as much distance as you can before you pass out. Make it hard for them to find you. Maybe by the time you awaken, they will not have found you yet. Then you can run again. Run. Run Run. 

 

Darkness.

 

When he next awoke, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong, though he wasn't sure what. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but a hand pushed him back down.

 

“Lie back.” It was a female voice- and not a familiar one.

 

Suddenly everything rushed back to him. Gwen. The men. The Disir. The… creature. He pushed at the hand against his chest, looking around rapidly. They weren’t inside the cave. They were in the forest.

 

“I mean you no harm, Emrys, but you must rest.”

 

Merlin turned towards the voice. It was an older woman, though not quite elderly. Not like the Disir. It was a comforting thought.

 

“Who are you?” He spoke at last.

 

“My name is Finna.” She replied. “I am a servant of Alator.” Alator. That was… good. It explained how she knew who he was. “Your king searches for you. He will be upon us in a moment. Now you must tell me. What happened?”

 

“It was…” Merlin closed his eyes, trying to think back. “The Disir. They wanted to judge me. I… I escaped.”

 

“No one escapes the Disir.” Finna said. “They placed judgement upon you. What did they do exactly?”

 

“They… They… There was a slug.” He swallowed. “A large… slug… and it attacked me. They tried to kill me. It let me go, and I ran.”

 

Finna didn’t seem appeased by this. If anything, she looked as if her worst fears had been confirmed. 

 

“What?” Merlin asked, leaning forward. “What is it?”

 

“It did not let you go, Emrys.” Finna said, but she did not elaborate any further. Then, as if on cue, Arthur entered the clearing, pulling out his sword. “King Arthur. I am not your enemy.”

 

“She’s fine.” Merlin murmured. “She’s… Alator…”

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Arthur approached, his sword not lowered. 

 

“He has fallen victim to the Gean Canach. He is still awakening. Give him a moment.” 

 

Arthur looked at her for a moment longer before sheathing his sword. “Who are you?”

 

“She’s Finna…” Merlin closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them once more. “She’s....”

 

“My name is Finna, my lord.” She confirmed. “I found him unconscious several hours ago. I have been waiting for him to awaken.”

 

Arthur nodded, kneeling beside her next to Merlin. “You spoke of a Gean…”

 

“A Gean Canach, my lord.” Finna explained. “Such a creature is capable of stealing the magic of others. If it is as Merlin has described, I fear that is exactly what has occurred.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he sat straight up. “No. No, my magic is fine.”

 

“Have you tried to use it?” Arthur asked, looking concerned.

 

“Well, no, but.” Merlin looked to the right, and raised his hand towards a large stick.  _ “Strangath.”  _ But the stick did not fly to his hand as he expected. Instead, nothing happened. Nothing at all. His eyes did not glow gold. He didn’t feel the pulse of magic flow through him. Nothing.  _ “Strangath. Strangath. Strangath.” _

 

“Merlin.” Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not working.” 

 

“You must take him to the Crystal Cave, young king.” Finna said, grabbing both of their attentions. “Only there can his magic be restored. And it must be restored. All of Albion relies on it.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Albion? I don’t understand.”

 

“There is a prophecy.” She began. “Of The Once and Future King and Emrys. The Once and Future King is destined to unite the land of Albion, but can only do so with the help of his sorcerer.”

 

“And Merlin is supposed to be… Emrys?”

 

Finna nodded. “And you the king. You have a great destiny before you, but you cannot do it alone. The Once and Future King is nothing without Emrys, and Emrys is nothing without magic. He must get it back, or Morgana will surely be victorious.”

 

Arthur paused for a moment before finally responding. “Where is this Crystal Cave?”

 

“Head towards the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Merlin will be able to guide you the rest of the way.”

 

Arthur stood, pulling Merlin up with him. “You’ve been there before then?”

 

Merlin nodded. “Once.”

 

“Very well.” 

 

“You must beware.” Finna warned. “Morgana hunts for Emrys. She does not yet realize Merlin’s true identity, but it is only a matter of time before she does. Her soldiers are patrolling this forest looking for me. You must not let them find him.”

 

“You?” Arthur asked. “Why you?”

 

“Because I know Emrys’s true identity. Morgana hopes to extract that information from me.” She looked towards Merlin. “It is a hopeless endeavor. I will take this secret to my grave.”

 

“I am grateful.” Arthur said softly. 

 

Finna’s head turned sharply, as did Arthur’s. A group of Saxons, perhaps three or four men, were suddenly upon them. Arthur released Merlin’s arm, pulling out his sword. Merlin, fortunately, found himself able to stand without Arthur’s assistance. Finna pushed one of the soldiers away with magic, and Arthur ran another through. A crossbow was fired, and then there was an arrow in Merlin’s side. 

 

It wasn’t the worst pain he had ever felt in his life- not by a long shot- but it was very far from pleasant.

 

Finna threw up her arm, taking out the last Saxon as Arthur lowered Merlin back to the ground. Merlin cried out as the arrow was roughly pulled from his flesh. 

 

“Merlin.” Arthur pressed a hand against the wound. “Heal yourself.”

 

“I  _ can’t _ .” It would be just like Arthur to forget such an important detail at such an inopportune time. It wasn’t as if he would need to be ordered to save his own life.

 

Arthur closed his eyes, remembering what they had just been speaking of only moments ago. He turned to Finna. “You used magic. I saw you. Can you heal him?”

 

“I cannot.” She answered simply. 

 

“You said he was important! You can’t just let him die!”

 

“It is not within my power.” Finna continued. “You must get him to the Crystal Cave. That is your only hope. Get him there, quickly.”

 

Arthur hesitated, looking between Merlin’s face and the wound. Finally, he stood, pulling the man over his shoulder. He grunted in pain at the movement, and Arthur offered a whispered apology. 

 

“Go now, Arthur.” Finna ordered. “You must hurry.”

 

The only evidence Merlin had of Arthur following the command was the rapidly shrinking image of the woman as they moved farther away. 

 

“I can walk.” Merlin protested, but Arthur shook his head.

 

“No you can’t. You took an arrow to the stomach. You can’t walk.” Arthur glanced towards him. “How far away is this cave?”

 

Merlin sighed. “I’m not entirely sure where we are right now.”

 

“Pretty close to the Disir cave.”

 

“Ah.” Merlin swallowed. “Couple days, I should think. I’m not sure. I’ve only been there the once.”

 

“But you know the way?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Are you certain?” Arthur pressed. “Because otherwise, I’m taking you back to Camelot.”

 

“I wouldn’t make it to Camelot.” Merlin said calmly. “I may not make it to the Crystal Cave.”

 

“Don’t.” Arthur said sharply. “You’ll be fine.”

 

There was a long moment of silence. “Where’s Gwen? We were with her, right? When…”

 

“When we woke up, I sent Mordred to take her back to Camelot.” Arthur explained. “I had a rough idea of where you’d be, they said they were taking you to the Disir after all, so I headed out in that direction.”

 

“That was stupid of you.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You went off by yourself. You should have gotten the knights. You could have been hurt.”

 

“Camelot was still a few hours away, and I wasn’t sure how long of a head start they already had on us. I wasn’t going to waste any more time.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes against Arthur’s back. “I’m sorry. About Gwen.”

 

“What?” Arthur turned his head towards Merlin. “What on Earth are you talking about now?”

 

“You just got her back.” He explained. “I’m sure you had other things in mind besides running after your servant.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “We have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

 

“That’s surprisingly romantic coming from you.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

When it became too dark to see, they settled down for camp. Merlin had grown more and more silent as time passed. It wasn’t until Arthur set him down against a tree that he saw how pale Merlin had grown. Merlin could tell by the look on his face that he was not doing well at all. 

 

He might die.

 

It was a bit of an anticlimactic way to die, all things considered. An arrow to the side wasn’t exactly a story of legend. 

 

Arthur removed his cape, wrapping it around Merlin’s torso. 

 

He wouldn’t last much longer. He knew that. They had to make it to the Crystal Cave by tomorrow, but there was still so much distance to cover. 

 

“Arthur.” Merlin whispered, feeling incredibly weak all of a sudden. “Arthur, I need to tell you something.”

 

No more lies. If he was going to die, he wanted to die without the secrets. Arthur deserved to know the truth. He deserved that and so much more. 

 

“You can tell me later. Right now you need to rest.”

 

“There might not be a later, Arthur.”

 

“Stop that.” Arthur said stiffly.

 

“Please.” Merlin whispered, grabbing his wrist in a pathetically weak grip. “Please.”

 

The king looked at him for a moment. “What is it?”

 

“Emrys.” Merlin began. “When Finna called me Emrys… I already knew. I’ve known for a while.”

 

“Okay?” Arthur shook his head. “I don’t care about some prophecy right now, Merlin.”

 

“No, you don’t understand.” He swallowed. “I’m a sorcerer. I’ve always been a sorcerer.”

 

“I  _ know  _ Merlin.”

 

“No, you don’t. You’re not listening. I didn’t start learning magic when you told me to. I’ve been using magic for years.”

 

“With Edwin and-”

 

“No!” Merlin nearly shouted. “Before Edwin. Before I even came to Camelot. I’ve been using magic my whole life. I’ve been pretending to learn, but I didn’t need to. I already knew all of it. That’s why I learned so quickly. I lied. I’ve used magic thousands of times since coming to Camelot, long before you asked me to. With Valiant. And Nimueh. And Sigan. I use it for you. Only for you, Arthur.” 

 

Arthur’s wrist was jerked out of his grasp, and Merlin looked up as Arthur backed away from him, an unclear look on his face. 

 

“I’m sorry. Arthur, I’m sorry.” 

 

Arthur said nothing, staring at him instead.

 

He was going to leave. 

 

He was going to leave him here to die. To die alone. Alone in the woods. Too injured to move. If he was going to die from this wound, then so be it, but not alone. Please not alone. Anything but that. Please don’t leave him. Please. 

 

“Please.” Merlin whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”

 

The unclear look on Arthur’s face, whatever it was, began to fade into something Merlin couldn’t identify. “Get some rest.” He said after a moment. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

 

The relief was overwhelming. He didn’t hate him. Or maybe he did. But he wasn’t going to leave him. He wasn’t going to abandon him. He wasn’t to die alone in these woods.

 

Unless Arthur planned on leaving in the night.

 

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. Arthur wouldn’t…

 

The thought was enough to make falling asleep impossible. 


	15. Defenseless Confessions

Arthur did not, as Merlin feared, abandon him in the night. He didn’t _ really _ believe the man would do such a thing, but the doubts had never left his mind. He had managed only a few hours of sleep because of that, which was the opposite of what he needed in his current state. Though with his injury, falling asleep could easily mean never waking up again.

 

“We need to make it to the cave today.” Arthur declared, pulling Merlin over his shoulder once more. 

 

They had had a small breakfast from a rabbit Arthur had managed to catch, though Merlin couldn’t stomach much of it. It was probably more important for Arthur to be eating anyways as he was the once who would determine their speed.

 

Merlin was in and out of consciousness throughout the trip. He only awoke when Arthur jostled him, needing directions. If Merlin didn’t wake, they wouldn’t make it. It was a lot of pressure to put on a dying man, but Merlin didn’t protest. After all, it was his own life on the line.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur said, and the warlock opened his eyes. “Where now?”

 

He looked up, and Arthur turned so Merlin was facing the right direction. “We’re… close.” Merlin took in a shallow breath. “Very close. Just a bit further. Straight. There’s… there’s an opening…”

 

Arthur turned back around, and Merlin rested his head once more against the king’s back. He closed his eyes, knowing they were moving only by the sound of Arthur’s feet against the ground. 

 

“Arthur…”

 

“What?” 

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

Arthur didn’t respond, which was probably the worst thing he could have done. Yell at him. Scream at him. Threaten him. Accuse him of treason. Anything. The silence was so much worse, because there was no telling what it could mean. 

 

Apathy was so much worse than hatred. 

 

The sound beneath him changed, and Merlin opened his eyes. They were in the cave. The Crystal Cave. They had made it. He wasn’t going to die.

 

Not here at least.

 

Arthur walked deeper into the cave until they finally came across the hundreds of crystals that seemed to grow out of the stone. “I can see where it gets its name.”

 

He set Merlin down next to a bundle of crystals. The cave floor was far less comfortable than the forest floor, but at least he was no longer upside down. 

 

It was a small comfort.

 

“Alright.” Arthur said, standing up. “Do it. Get your magic back.”

 

Simple. It’ll be simple. Just reach for your magic. It would be there. It was always there. It had been there since you were born. You’ve never been without it. Just grab it. It’ll be easy- except that it wasn’t. 

 

Merlin laid there for a long moment, closing his eyes. “I don’t know how.”

 

“What?” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you  _ mean  _ you don’t know how?”

 

“I mean.” Merlin sighed. “I don’t know how. I don’t know how to get my magic back.”

 

“And you didn’t think to mention that before now?!”

 

“I… I thought it would be obvious.” Merlin opened his eyes. “I thought it would just happen. I…” He reached out to grab one of the crystals, hoping that perhaps they would lead to his recovery, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. “I’m sorry.”

 

Merlin could hear Arthur pacing across the cave floor, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man. “Just… Just keep trying.”

 

“Trying what?” Merlin questioned. “I’m not trying anything. I don’t have the first idea of where to start.” He shook his head against the rocks. “Finna… she didn’t say how it would happen. I don’t know. I just… I just don’t know.”

 

Arthur growled, hitting the cave wall hard enough to make his knuckles bleed. This was all for nothing. Arthur had brought him all this way, and it was all for nothing. Perhaps  _ this  _ was the Disir’s real judgement. It was a life for a life, after all. Merlin had saved Mordred, and now, months later, he would die in his place. There were worse ways to die. 

 

He shouldn’t have told Arthur. It was a mistake. Because he was going to die, and Arthur wouldn’t even look at him. Because he was going to die hated and mistrusted instead of loved and mourned. He should have kept his secret. That was what his mother had always told him to do. That was what Gaius had told him to do.

 

The Disir was right. He  _ was  _ arrogant. To think he knew better. To think he could tell Arthur and not expect him to feel betrayed. He had wanted to die understood and without lies, and instead he would die a traitor. 

 

“You should go.” Merlin said quietly, breaking the silence that had lasted several minutes.

 

“Excuse me?” Arthur said, turning towards the wounded man.

 

“It’s not going to happen.” He looked away from the king. “I don’t know how. I can’t…” He took in a breath, tears forming in his eyes. “There’s no point in you staying to watch me die. Camelot… I’m sure they’re looking for you by now. You should go back.”

 

“You expect me to just leave you?”

 

“Yeah.” It was just above a whisper. 

 

There was another long pause. “That wasn’t what you were saying last night. You begged me not to leave.”

 

“Because I didn’t want to die alone.”

 

“And how is that any different now?”

 

“Because I also don’t want to die hated!” Merlin finally turned back towards Arthur, the tears falling at last. “Because if you leave, I can pretend! I can pretend that you’re looking for me! I can pretend you would care if I died!”

 

“Is that what you think?” Arthur crossed the floor towards him. “That I don’t  _ care _ ? Last I checked, I’ve been carrying you for two days straight to get you here. I did that for what? For fun? Because I thought it’d be a great way to spend my time?” He looked like he wanted to kick Merlin- just barely holding back. 

 

“You won’t talk to me.” Merlin whispered. “You won’t look at me. What would happen if we got back to Camelot anyways? What would you do to me? Do you just want to kill me yourself? Is that it?”

 

“Shut up!” Arthur hit his fist against the wall again, and Merlin could only be grateful that it wasn’t his face. “Just shut up! Is that what you think of me? Yeah. You lied, and I’m… I’m furious. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to even look at you. Because you lied to me! You’ve lied to me since the day we’ve met!”

 

“You would have killed me.”

 

“And you’re so sure about that?”

 

“Yes. I am.” Merlin looked up. “How many times have you told me about the evils of magic? How many times? And when Gaius was possessed by that goblin and accused me of sorcery, you arrested me. You were going to let me burn. You weren’t going to help me- not while you thought the accusations were true. Why should I believe that would ever change?”

 

“I  _ asked  _ you to learn magic!” Arthur argued back. “If that wasn’t a good opportunity, then I don’t know what is!”

 

“But don’t you see!? I was finally getting everything I could have possibly wanted!” A short sob escaped this throat. “I was going to use my magic, and you were going to know. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I was getting the chance to prove to you that magic wasn’t evil. That’s what you told me! If I proved magic didn’t corrupt, the law would be repealed.” He looked at his hands. “How could I give that up? How could I risk losing that by telling you the truth? I… I couldn’t.”

 

“Obviously you could.” Arthur bit back. “You did.”

 

“I didn’t want to die without you know the truth. I hoped that maybe… maybe you could forgive me. I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry for telling me the truth?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

It was silent after that, and Merlin turned his head away from Arthur. He didn’t want to see the resentment in his eyes, and he didn’t want Arthur to see the fear in his own. 

 

The silence was only broken by the sound of Arthur’s body hitting the wall, and the cry that escaped his lips as he fell to the ground. Merlin jerked up just as Morgana came into view. 

 

“What a surprise.” Morgana said with false cheer. “I thought the trail would lead me to little Finna, but instead, it lead me straight to you, dear brother, and your pet sorcerer.” She turned to Arthur. “Did you know your little servant had magic?”

 

“I did.” Arthur said, still on the ground.

 

Morgana looked less than pleased with the answer, obviously hoping to have been able to spoil it for the man, but she recovered quickly. “What’s this?” She looked over at Merlin’s bloodied shirt. “So it was  _ your  _ blood that we found. Not so high and mighty now are you?” 

 

“Leave him be, Morgana.” Arthur ordered, his fingers wrapping around his sword hilt.

 

“Oh don’t worry. I won’t kill him.” Morgana smiled. “He’s already dying after all. No, I’m going to kill you, while Merlin here watches, and then I’m going to leave him to die with your corpse at his feet.

 

No.

 

Arthur struggled to stand, obviously wounded in some manner from being thrown into the cavern wall. Morgana gave him what almost looked like a sympathetic smile, and closed her fist. Her eyes glowed gold, and suddenly Arthur’s hands were at his own throat.

 

He couldn’t breath.

 

Arthur fell back down to his knees, fighting against the invisible force.

 

No.

 

Arthur couldn’t breath.

 

He couldn’t fight.

 

He couldn’t even stand.

 

He was  _ defenseless. _

 

“No.” Merlin whispered, reaching out his hand. “No!” 

 

His eyes burned gold, and Morgana was thrown backwards. Arthur heaved in a deep breath, coughing as the air was returned to him. 

 

Merlin stood, stalking towards Morgana, his eyes still glowing. She threw a spell at him, Merlin wasn't sure what kind, but it didn’t matter. He deflected it just as easily, sending them all back her way. She took a step away from him, fear in her eyes.

 

Good. 

 

A sudden attack right at his wound was enough to break his concentration, and when he looked back up, Morgana was gone. She had fled once again.

 

Merlin fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his stomach. A hand touched his shoulder. Arthur. 

 

“Finna.” Arthur said, still breathing heavily. “She said you’d be fine if you got your magic back. You have to heal yourself.”

 

Merlin placed a hand over the wound, closing his eyes.  _ “Þurhhæle dolgbenn.”  _ A moment passed without anything happening.  _ “Licsar ge staðol nu.” _

 

Again. There was nothing.

 

“I can’t.” Merlin said. “I’m too weak. Too… tired.”

 

“Try again.”

 

“It’s not going to work.”

 

“Do it anyways!”

 

“Arthur.” Merlin hesitated. “There is… one thing I could do. But… but you’re not going to like it.”

 

“There are a lot of things I don’t  _ like  _ going on right now.” Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin’s shoulder. “If it can heal you, then do it.”

 

“Alright.” Merlin sighed. “I need to get out of the cave. To the entrance.”

 

“What? Alright.” Arthur ignored his own question, pulling one of Merlin’s arms over his shoulder. 

 

They reached the entrance, both of them collapsing onto the ground. It took him a moment to remember that Arthur was also injured, though not near as severely. 

 

Merlin looked to the quickly darkening sky. This was it. Another secret. Hopefully Arthur would be able to forgive him for it. 

 

_ “O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!” _

 

Arthur stared at the wound, shaking his head. “It didn’t work. Merlin, it’s not… Try it again.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “Just wait… just…”

 

Or perhaps not. Black spots were beginning to fill his vision, and he wasn’t sure if these spots were for unconsciousness or something far more permanent. The sound of wings closing in on them could have been a hallucination at that point. 

 

Or maybe a salvation. 

 

Well. They’d find out soon enough. 

 


	16. A Dragonlord's Secrets

When Merlin first said, or more accurately, yelled, the spell, Arthur was expecting the wound to close in a shining golden light. When Merlin said to wait, he had assumed that the spell would merely take more time to work, but that he would be fine. He just had to wait. 

 

What he did not expect was for a very, very dead dragon to appear in the sky above them and take first Merlin, then Arthur, into separate claws, lifting them into the air. 

 

His first reaction to the unexpected event was to take out his sword and attempt to defeat the beast once again. But then, as they were several hundred feet in the air, doing anything that might encourage the beast to drop them would be… less than wise.

 

It was only minutes later when Arthur was dropped roughly into a clearing, and Merlin was placed down far more gently a few feet away. Arthur ran towards the man, doing his best to ignore the pain in his back, but the beast pressed Arthur against the ground with its foot. Hand? Paw?

 

“No!” Arthur cried out as the creature breathed fire across Merlin’s unconscious form. If he wasn’t already dead, he was surely dead now. “No…” 

 

But when the fire finally ceased, Merlin was not ash. He didn’t appear burnt at all. The dragon released him, allowing Arthur to rush towards the man. 

 

The wound was healed. He was fine. Arthur placed a hand against Merlin’s mouth and nose, his shoulders relaxing in relief when he felt the breath against his skin. He would live. 

 

But why? 

 

Arthur turned towards the dragon in confusion. Why would it heal Merlin? What possible reason could it have for such a thing?

 

“I did not expect to see you when he called for me, young King.”

 

Arthur’s mouth fell open. “You… can talk?”

 

The dragon didn’t seem inclined to respond to that particular question. “Merlin will recover, but he must rest.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“That is to be expected.” 

 

Confident that Merlin would be alright, Arthur stood, taking several steps towards the beast. “Why did you heal him? Why did you come?”

 

“Because we are kin. Because he called for me.” 

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Kin?”

 

“Merlin,” The creature began. “Is a dragonlord. The last of the dragonlords, thanks to your father.”

 

“Balinor was-”

 

“Balinor was Merlin’s father.” It paused. “At least, that is what I have gathered. He’s never told me the origin of his powers, but it was not within him before the man’s death.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “Merlin’s… a dragonlord… and a sorcerer.”

 

“Indeed.” 

 

Of course he was. Of course Merlin was a dragonlord. Why wouldn’t he be? Was he also a seer? Or perhaps even a troll?

 

No. No, not a troll. He was fairly certain of that. 

 

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

 

“The wound you inflicted on me was minor. In time, it healed.” 

 

“Right.” Arthur said slowly, stretching out each letter. Merlin had lied. Again. It wasn’t particularly surprising news at that point. The man was clearly better at hiding secrets than he originally thought. “Where are we, then? Where did you take us?”

 

“You would reach Camelot in a few hours by walking North.” The dragon responded.

 

“Not far then.” Arthur said, looking back at Merlin. 

 

“Merlin will not awaken for some time. The wound nearly took his life.”

 

“So does he do this often, then?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms. “Get himself hurt and call for you to come and save him?”

 

“Far more often than I would appreciate.”

 

“Of course he does.” Arthur breathed. “Why wouldn’t he have a pet dragon? That makes perfect sense.”

 

“I am not a pet, young king.”

 

“Then what are you, his friend?”

 

“It is as I said before. I am his kin.”

 

“Yes.” Arthur shook his head incredulously. “Because that’s so much better.”

 

“I must leave you now.” The dragon began. “I trust you will look after the young warlock?”

 

“Warlock.” Arthur dropped his head. “Warlock. For gods… yes. Yes, I’ll look after him.”

 

“And keep in mind, Arthur Pendragon.” It was more than a little strange to hear the dragon call him by his full name. “The only thing preventing me from destroying your kingdom is Merlin. Should you choose to take drastic measures, the consequences would be less than appealing.”

 

“I’m not going to-!” The creature didn’t stay to hear his response, instead opting to fly away. He couldn’t help but notice how off his flying seemed, but it wasn’t as if he had spent much time watching dragons fly. 

 

Stupid lizard. 

 

He glanced back over towards Merlin, who appeared to be sleeping soundly. He would almost look serene if it weren’t for his blood soaked shirt.. 

 

Arthur kneeled next to him, lifting up the shirt to look at the wound more closely. Or rather, to took at where the wound had been. Not even a scar remained. The only evidence that it had ever been there to begin with was the blood that stained his skin. 

 

Like the dragon had said, it had taken many hours for Merlin to finally crack his eyes opening, looking hopelessly disoriented. 

 

“So.” Arthur mused, sitting cross-legged a few feet away, his head leaning on his right hand. “Dragonlord, huh?”

 

Merlin jerked upwards at that, his hands going straight to his where his injury had been. “Where is he?”

 

“The dragon left a few hours ago.” Arthur answered. “With a few thinly veiled threats to keep me company.”

 

“He usually stays.” Merlin said quietly. He glanced towards Arthur, looking incredibly wary. “Arthur…”

 

“Balinor?” Arthur stood up, turning away from Merlin. “Really?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know why you were so concerned about the magic bit.  _ This  _ is… so much worse. If you wanted to have some kind of dying confession, this would have been it!”

 

“You think?” It sounded like a genuine question, which was ridiculous. 

 

“Well, I already  _ knew  _ about the magic. Sort of. But this?” He looked back towards Merlin. “You having a pet dragon that flies around saving your ass when you get careless? This… This was a surprise.”

 

“He’s not my pet.”

 

“Or so he said.”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin started softly. “You have to understand. Your father… he would have killed me if he knew who my father was. If I told you, you would have had to choose between us, and I didn’t want to put you in that position.”

 

“That’s what worried you?” Some of the anger left his voice. 

 

“And getting my head chopped off.” He added, as if an afterthought.

 

Only you, Merlin. Only you could be so… absurd. 

 

“Sire!” 

 

Arthur turned at the voice. A group of knights rode towards them, looking visibly relieved to have found them. 

 

“Sire.” Leon stepped down from his horse. “We’ve been looking for you for days! Are you injured?”

 

“No, no. We’re fine.” Arthur looked past Leon to the others. Elyan was there, along with a few other non-round table knights. 

 

“Merlin…” 

 

Arthur followed Leon’s gaze to the man on the ground. Ah. Yes. The blood. “He’s fine.” He walked towards him, reaching out a hand to help the man up, which Merlin accepted. “It’s, uh, it’s hard to explain, but he’s fine.”

 

“I’m fine, really.” Merlin added when Leon looked less than convinced.

 

Leon stared for a moment longer in concern before looking back to Arthur. “Gwaine and Percival are off in the opposite direction. I’ll call off the searches once we return to Camelot.”

 

“We must hurry.” Arthur said. “Morgana could be on her way.”

 

“Morgana?” Merlin spoke up. “What makes you think she’s going to attack?”

 

“Does she know you’re a dragonlord?”

 

“No…”

 

“Then, as far as she’s aware, you’re dead.” The wound was too serious for him to heal by himself. Morgana would have known that. Without that dragon, Merlin  _ would  _ be dead. “If she thinks Emrys is dead, she’s going to take the opportunity. Why wouldn’t she?”

 

Merlin nodded. “Of course.”

 

“Sire?” Leon. Arthur had nearly forgotten the man was there. “Dragonlord? Emrys?”

 

Arthur shook his head. “It’s a long story. For now, we need to get back to Camelot.” He turned back to Merlin. “If she thinks you’re dead, we need to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

 

“I’ll keep out of sight.”

 

Arthur took a few steps away, pausing when a thought came to him. “Does Mordred know you’re a dragonlord?”

 

“No.” Merlin answered easily.

 

That was something, Arthur supposed. “At least I was the first to find out this time.” 

 

To this, Merlin was suspiciously quiet. 

 

“Gaius knows, doesn’t he?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Dammit.” 

 

With the horses, they managed to make it back to Camelot within the hour. The knights weren’t the only ones to notice the blood on Merlin’s shirt, and everyone watching seemed confused as to why they weren’t rushing him to Gaius. Even Guinevere, who had hurried towards them as they entered the gate, had halted in shock.

 

“Merlin.” Guinevere breathed as the man got down from the horse he was sharing with Elyan. “Oh gods, what happened?”

 

“I got shot with an arrow.” Merlin said nonchalantly. “But it’s fine now.”

 

Leon raised an eyebrow, looking back at Arthur, who just shrugged in response. It was a story for another time. 

 

“Leon, send out a rider to collect Gwaine and Percival.” Arthur ordered. “Prepare the castle for siege.”

 

“Siege?” Guinevere questioned, confusion obvious. “What’s happening?”

 

“We had an encounter with Morgana.” Arthur explained. “There’s a good chance she’ll be attacking soon enough.”

 

The sound of more horse hooves against the stone forced Arthur to turn. Ah. It seemed the rider would not be necessary after all.

 

“It’s Morgana, sire!” Gwaine jumped down from his horse. “An army approaches. They’ll be here by nightfall.”

 

Arthur sighed. “It is as we expected. Prepare for the siege. Make sure those in the outlying villages find shelter within the walls.”

 

“Yes, sire.” Leon said after a beat, and the knights followed him out of the courtyard. 

 

“Merlin.” Arthur turned to the man. “Is there anything you can do? To protect the castle?”

 

“I can try to put up some wards, but I’ve never done it before.” Merlin admitted. “I don’t know how long they’ll hold.” 

 

Merlin looked away suddenly, and Arthur followed his gaze to a quickly approaching Mordred. “Sire. Merlin. Are you alright?”

 

“Yes, we’re fine. We ran into Morgana.” Arthur explained. “As far as she knows, Merlin is dead, and we want to keep it that way. What do you know about wardings?”

 

Mordred hesitated. “Not much.”

 

“But some?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” Arthur nodded. “Help Merlin with the wardings, but stay out of sight.” This was directed more towards Merlin. “If there is any sign of Morgana or her army, you come back in. I don’t care what state the wardings are in. You come in. Alright?”

 

Merlin nodded. “She won’t see me.” With that, he took off towards the front gate, Mordred following him in turn. 

 

The dynamic between the two of them seemed to have changed significantly over the course of the past few months. Merlin had always been surprising cold to the boy before. Perhaps Merlin was finally looking past his previous affiliation with Morgana. Or perhaps keeping each other’s magic a secret was enough to garner an amount of trust that had not been there before.

 

Whatever the reason for it, Arthur was grateful.

 

He turned towards the citadel, Guinevere at his heels.

 

“Arthur.” Guinevere spoke, watching the guards and servants scurry down the halls as they prepared for the battle. “What happened? Why did those men take Merlin?”

 

“I had Merlin heal Mordred after he was injured by the Disir. He would have died otherwise.” She nodded, and Arthur continued. “The Disir, I guess, didn’t want him to do that. So they punished him.”

 

“Punished him how?”

 

“They stole his magic.”

 

Guinevere’s eyes widened. “So the magic is gone?”

 

Arthur shook his head. “No. We went to the Crystal Cave to get it back. Merlin was shot with an arrow. Morgana attacked us in the cave. Merlin got his magic back just in time to scare her off.”

 

“And he healed himself?”

 

He hesitated. “No.” 

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Then how…”

 

“Turns out, he’s also a dragonlord. So the dragon shows up, heals him- turns out dragons can speak.”

 

“You  _ talked  _ to a dragon?”

 

“Well.” Arthur began. “I tried to. It was incredibly condescending.”

 

Guinevere let out a short laugh at that. “A condescending dragon. That little thing?”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Little? It was  _ huge _ . You’ve seen it.”

 

Guinevere shook her head. “No I haven’t. But from what you’ve described, it’s not much bigger than a wyvern, is it?” She shrugged. “If it’s going to get as big as the one that attacked the castle, I’d say it still has a lot of growing to do.”

 

“Oh!” Arthur shook his head. “No. It wasn’t the white dragon. Turns out the one that attacked the castle, that I killed, is still alive. And Merlin and him are friends.”

 

“Merlin’s friends with a dragon?”

 

“Yep.” Or kin or whatever.

 

It seemed that Guinevere would be joining the obligatory conversation where Merlin explained every little thing he had ever kept from them that would inevitably happen at some point in the future. 

  
That was going to be a  _ long  _ day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a POV change to spice things up :)


	17. The Battle for Camelot

 

The scouts had returned. Morgana’s army would be upon them within the hour.

 

Arthur made his way out of the castle and down to the wall. It had been several hours since he sent Merlin and Mordred that way, and he had yet to hear any word from them.

 

Merlin had one hand pressed against the wall, and Arthur could see blue runemarks glowing on the stone.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“No, Merlin-”

 

“Leave it.”

 

“Morgana will be here within the hour.” Arthur interjected, watching the two of them in confusion. So much for the two of them getting along.  

 

“I’ll be finished by then.” Merlin said, turning back to the wall.

 

“He’s finished now.” Mordred grabbed for Merlin’s arm, but the other man jerked away.

 

“ _Stop_.”

 

“What is it?” Arthur asked, the question directed more towards Mordred than Merlin.

 

“Creating wards…” Mordred began. “It doesn’t just take energy to make them. It also takes energy to keep them up. Merlin’s putting up too many. They aren’t going to last.”

 

“I’m holding it fine now, aren’t I?”

 

“Morgana and her entire army aren’t pushing at it right now.” Mordred shook his head. “As soon as that happens, you won’t be able to keep it up.”

 

“I can hold it.”

 

“No, you _can’t_.”

 

“I know what I’m doing, Mordred.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur looked to the other man now. “I’m going to need you to be able to fight. If these warding are going to wear you down, then don’t do them.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Put up only what is necessary to give us some more time.” Arthur ordered. “You said you’ve never done wardings before. You can’t know how it will affect you.”

 

Merlin looked back at the wall, finally lowering his hand. “Fine.” The blue glow faded, but the warding must have still been there. Hidden.

 

“Good.” Arthur walked back into the courtyard, followed closely by the two others. “What about that dragon of yours? Could it help us?”

 

“If it comes down to it… yes.” Merlin hesitated, and Arthur glanced back at him. “But it would be difficult for him to differentiate between Saxon and Camelot soldiers. His fire is going to burn whoever’s in its path- no matter their allegiance.” Another pause. “And he’s getting old. I’d rather not drag him into this if it can be helped.”

 

Arthur thought back to the creature. It _had_ been flying a bit strangely when it took off. Perhaps it truly was just old. “Alright. What about the white dragon? The one loyal to Morgana?”

 

“If Aithusa comes, I can stop her.” Merlin answered. “But I won’t kill her. She’s still just a child. She doesn’t know any better.”

 

Aithusa. Of course he had named it. “I don’t care if you kill it, as long as you can control the damn thing.”

 

“I can.”

 

“That’s all I ask.” He glanced towards Mordred. “How adept are you with healing magic?”

 

“I am… okay, sire. I haven’t gotten much practice.”

 

“He healed me with magic when I was poisoned” Merlin interjected. “He can do it well enough.”

 

Arthur nodded. “I need you to go to Gaius. Help him as best you can.”

 

“Sire.” Mordred began. “Would I not be of better help in the battle?”

 

“If we become overwhelmed, I will call for you, but there will be many casualties tonight- civilians included. I want to prevent as many deaths as possible, and if you can help to do so, then that’s where I need you.”

 

“Yes, sire,” Mordred took off towards where they were building their makeshift infirmary. Gaius’s chambers just weren’t big enough for the number of wounded that would need treating.

 

“Sire.” It was Leon once more, approaching the two of them.

 

“Leon.” Arthur turned to the man. “Have the villagers seeking refuge been given shelter?”

 

“As best as we can. We’re running out of room.”

 

Arthur nodded. “Do what you can to help them.” Merlin gasped, and Arthur grabbed him before he fell to his knees. “What is it? Is it the wound?” It had looked like it was healed, but perhaps it was not. Perhaps there were still some internal injuries.

 

Merlin shook his head. “No.” He opened his clenched eyes, which were burning gold. “It’s the warding. They’re close. Morgana… she’s close.”

 

Arthur wrapped Merlin’s arm around his shoulder, looking back to Leon. “The warding is going to keep them from entering the city. Set up archers to fire at them once they’re in range. With any luck, we can take out a few before they break through.”

 

Arthur helped Merlin to walk as they made their way up the stairs and into the throne room. It was deserted, of course, and highly defendable. He set Merlin down in a small alcove behind the throne, hiding him from sight.

 

“What’s going to happen once the warding fails?”

 

Merlin closed his eyes. “They’ll be able to get through the gate.”

 

“To you, I mean.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“ _Merlin_.”

 

“I mean it.” Merlin protested. “Right now the warding is pulling on me. Once it breaks, it’ll stop.”

 

Arthur nodded. “Alright. Stay here until then. You’ll be safe here.”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “I can help you.”

 

“You can barely stand.” Arthur pointed out. “You obviously underestimated how much this would affect you. Stay here, and stay safe, until the warding fails. Then, if you can, come and help us.”

 

If Merlin had any more protests, Arthur didn’t hear them, pulling the side curtain over the alcove, hiding him completely.

 

With the Saxons unable to enter the city, the archers were able to take a significant number of them out before the battle even began. They were stationed too far away to take them all out, but every little bit would help once the real fight began.

 

Arthur looked out towards the gate. Morgana was there, attacking the wall with all of her power. And Merlin was holding her back. Emrys indeed, it would seem.

 

“Gwaine!” The knight turned at his name. “I need you to go to the throne room. Merlin’s hidden in there. If you look around, I’m sure you’ll find him.”

 

“Merlin?” Gwaine looked visibly confused. “What-”

 

“He’s the one keeping them out. That warding? That’s him. But it’s not going to last much longer, and I’m not sure what kind of state he’ll be in when it breaks.” Arthur took in a short breath. “When the Saxons get in, they’re going to be looking for the source of the warding. If they find him, they will kill him.”

 

That was enough to break Gwaine out of his bewilderment. “I’ll look after him.”

 

“Protect him.” Was all Arthur said, and Gwaine ran off towards the citadel.

 

The warding wasn’t going to last much longer.

 

Soon the true battle would begin.

 

Several minutes went by with little action. All of Camelot’s soldiers were lined up before the gate, swords drawn. Merlin’s warding had given the civilians enough time to seek shelter, and the soldiers time to prepare. No one really understood where the barrier had come from, or why it was there. It was obviously of magical origin, but what kind of sorcerer would want to protect Camelot?

 

What kind of sorcerer indeed.

 

When the warding finally broke, it was clear for everyone to see. Shards of what looked like glowing, blue glass shattered across the courtyard. Many of the knights, Arthur included, tried to cover their faces to protect themselves from the sharp glass heading towards them, but the shards turned to dust in the air long before they made contact. They were probably never physical to begin with.

 

Saxons flooded through the gate. Her army was sizeable, but Camelot would still have reigned victorious if it weren’t for Morgana herself. Arthur slashed through three men before he was thrown backwards, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him and make him lose his grip on his sword. Arthur choked on the air for a moment, looking up to see him sister standing over him.

 

“Good to see you again so soon, brother.” Arthur reached for his sword, but Morgana had already picked it up herself while he was still catching his breath. “Oh, none of that.” She placed the tip of the sword against his chest. “If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll make it quick.”

 

“Information?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, wincing as the sword dug against his sternum. “You already breached the walls. Isn’t it a bit late to be gathering intel?”

 

“Tell me where Emrys is.”

 

“Emrys?” Arthur tried, doing his best to make the name sound unfamiliar to him.

 

“I know you know of whom I speak. No one else could have created such a barrier.” She moved the sword so that it was against his neck. “He must be close by. Where is he?”

 

“Merlin is dead, Morgana.” Arthur growled out. “He died in the cave.”

 

“And you expect me to mourn him?” She let out a stark laugh. “He deserved a far worse death than what he got, but I’ll take what I can get. Now, tell me where Emrys is.”

 

It took Arthur a moment to realize what she was saying. She didn’t know Merlin was Emrys. Even now she still did not realize it. She believed Emrys to be a different person entirely.

 

One of Arthur’s knights, finally noticing his king on the ground, went to attack the witch, but Morgana threw him away with her magic. His sword dropped from his hand, landing just a few feet away from Arthur.

 

Morgana shook her head. “It appears I’ll just have to find Emrys myself. No point in keeping you alive.”

 

Arthur reached to the side, just barely managing to grab the sword, and slashed her across the stomach. Morgana cried out, her hand going to the wound. It gave Arthur the opportunity to jump to his feet and gain his bearings. He made another move towards Morgana, which she met with the sword she had stolen from Arthur. Morgana had always been a skillful swordsman, but she was wounded, and Arthur had a clear advantage.

 

In the midst of the battle, he had nearly forgotten of her magic when she threw him back once again. Her fist closed as her eyes glowed gold, and his throat began to tighten. It was the cave all over again.

 

But then he could breath, and there was a hand on his shoulder. Arthur expected it to be one of his knights and was surprised to see Merlin there instead, steadying him.

 

“Merlin…?” He hasn’t been anticipating the man to recover so quickly.

 

Merlin looked away from Arthur and towards Morgana, who must have been thrown by Merlin as she was in the process of standing back up. He left Arthur’s side without looking back, heading straight for her.

 

Morgana lashed out with her magic, but Merlin sent every attack straight back at her. Every blast. Every flash. Every burst of power.

 

“How!?” Morgana was on her knees at this point, the strength of her own power weakening her. “How can you…?”

 

“I am Emrys.” Merlin said in a voice that sounded so unfamiliar to Arthur. It was dark, and there was a power in it he had rarely heard. This wasn’t Merlin, the servant. This was Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. “And you have hurt my king for the last time.”

 

Morgana snarled, rising to her feet. “I don’t think so.”

 

Merlin raised his hand, sending her flying back once more.

 

This time she did not rise.

 

“Arthur.” It was Merlin, running towards him once again, helping him to stand. He looked around, taking in the thousands of Saxons still fighting against Camelot’s defenses. “I need to get to a higher vantage point.”

 

“The turrets.” Arthur said, grabbing Merlin’s arm. “It’s the highest part of the castle. Come on.”

 

The citadel was still unpenetrated, so getting through the castle wasn’t a problem.

 

“Where’s Gwaine anyways?” Arthur asked as they reached the top.

 

“I sent him back to help you once the warding broke.” Merlin responded, walking to the very edge of the tower. “This’ll work.”

 

“Work for what?”

 

Merlin didn’t answer, raising a hand towards the sky. He didn’t say any spells- he didn’t say anything at all- but the clouds turned a dark gray despite it. A burst of lightning hit the ground in the center of the Saxon army, disintegrating many of the men on the spot. There was another burst, then another, then another, never getting close enough to Camelot’s soldiers to do them any harm.

 

Arthur couldn’t help but stare, not at the field, but at Merlin, as he single handedly took out an entire army of thousands. Soon, the army was nothing but dust. Some of the Saxon soldiers had been too close to Camelot’s knights to destroy with magic, but the stragglers were easily finished off with swords.

 

The battle was over.

 

And it was won.


	18. Sorrow and Goodbyes

With the battle won, Arthur raced down to the infirmary, Merlin close behind him. Mordred, as Arthur had hoped, had managed to help heal numerous wounded men. Fortunately, men in pain rarely noticed how they were being treated, so long as that pain would stop.

 

“I’m sorry for not allowing you to fight, but I needed you here.”

 

“I understand, sire.” Mordred looked to Arthur, glancing behind him to where Merlin and Gaius were speaking. “I take it the army was defeated then?”

 

“Sire.” Leon interrupted, running towards Arthur. “The Saxon reinforcements are in retreat.”

 

“Good.” Arthur nodded.

 

“There is still the matter of Morgana…”

 

He closed his eyes briefly. His sister. Magic was not corrupting, he knew that now. Perhaps if he had been more open before, he could have saved her from her fate. “Collect the body. I’ll… I’ll figure out what to do with it later.”

 

“Morgana is alive, sire. Merely unconscious.”

 

“What?” Arthur’s head shot up.

 

“She has a pulse, and there is breath still in her.”

 

If she awoke, she would escape. It was that simple. “Gaius.” He walked towards the older man. “Morgana is unconscious. Do you have anything to keep her that way?”

 

“Belladonna, sire.” Gaius responded.

 

Yes. Like what they had used on Guinevere. Arthur turned back to Leon. “Go with Gaius. Administer it as quickly as possible, then take her to the dungeons. Keep her drugged at all costs. She must not awake until we want her to.”

 

Leon obeyed, leaving the hospital with the physician.

 

Morgana was captured. What did that mean? He’d have to execute her. She had killed too many people to walk away, and too many more lives would be put at risk if he didn’t end her own. It didn’t make it any easier. He had known her since they were children. They had grown up together.

 

And now he was going to kill her.

 

Merlin, though Arthur hadn’t realized it at first, was completely and utterly exhausted. It wasn’t surprising, though. Mordred, after learning how exactly Merlin had defeated the army, had been surprised to see the man still conscious. Merlin had only proven how worn he was when he accepted Arthur’s order to rest with little argument.

 

Merlin had still been asleep when Arthur entered Gaius’s chambers several hours later.

 

“As you know, sire.” Gaius began. “Morgana cannot be kept unconscious with the Belladonna for more than three days.”

 

“Of course.” Arthur nodded. “We’ll have the trial tomorrow and the execution the next day.” There seemed to be little point in there being a trial. Her fate was sealed, but it was a formality Arthur was reluctant to give up. Everyone deserved a trial, no matter the crime.

 

The door to Merlin’s room squeaked open slowly, and Arthur turned to see the man standing in the doorway. He must have just woken, and was likely not truly ready to be awake yet, as he held a blanket around his shoulders and was squinting slightly in the light.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur said. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine.” Merlin responded. “Just… tired.”

 

“I can imagine.” Arthur walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “After holding up that barrier, then destroying the army.”

 

Merlin looked up. “What happened afterwards? I heard you talking to Leon about Morgana.”

 

“She’s alive. I’ll need you for her trial. You’re the only one who could hope to control her. We’re just waiting for you at this point.”

 

Merlin nodded. “I’m ready.”

 

“No. You’re not.” Merlin looked ready to protest, but Arthur remained firm. “I need you at full strength, not half awake. Go back to bed. Sleep. We’ll do it tomorrow, alright?”

 

Merlin hesitated before nodding and turning to re-enter his room, shutting the door behind him.

 

It was almost comical. The most powerful sorcerer to ever live with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, looking like a child woken from a bad storm. The kind of power he wielded… the power that Arthur had seen just hours earlier… it was unimaginable. When he had asked Merlin to learn magic all those months ago, he had never thought it would become this. He never could have dreamt of it. He never could have wanted it.

 

Of course, Arthur asking Merlin to learn magic had nothing to do with that power. As it had turned out, he had been using magic for years, right under his nose. There had been anger at first, of course. Merlin had lied to him. Ever since they met, he had lied to him. Even when he had shown that he was open to magic, Merlin still lied.

 

But he understood.

 

What Merlin had said in the cave… he was afraid, and not just for himself, but for all those with magic. What if Arthur had turned on Merlin upon learning the truth? What if all those promises about changing the laws had turned to dust? How could Merlin possibility risk that when it was his own people at stake? How could he afford to trust Arthur when even Arthur wasn’t sure how he would have reacted?  


And what if he had never asked Merlin to learn magic at all? How long would it have been before Merlin told him? Would he have ever told him? Would he have taken that secret to his grave? All that power, that raw power, hidden for none to see?

 

Would Arthur have dismissed him? Killed him, even? He liked to think he would not have, but he wasn’t sure. After his father was killed, he had been so certain of his beliefs. He had _told_ Merlin about the evils of magic. He had told Merlin that he himself was evil, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. He must have been afraid. For so long, he had lived in fear.

 

So Arthur understood.

 

Because it didn’t matter if Merlin was the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. It didn’t matter if he wielded a power that could topple castles and destroy empires. It didn’t matter if the man could wipe out an entire army without muttering a single spell.

 

Because Merlin was still Merlin, and he always would be. He would wrap a blanket around his shoulders and trip over buckets and complain about everything that came to his mind. Because that’s who Merlin was, and nothing would ever change that.

 

Nothing.

 

Morgana’s trial was drastically different from any other Arthur had ever presided over. It would be too dangerous for Morgana to be brought up to the throne room, so the trial took place in the dungeons. Only Arthur, Merlin, a handful of knights, and some of the lords were present.

 

One of the knights unlocked the door of the cell, allowing Merlin to enter. He walked over to the unconscious witch and placed a hand on her forehead. _“Gielde ic þec þissa meowles sawol, gyden æblæce.”_

 

He then backed up towards the door of the cell, but did not leave it entirely. Morgana slowly began to awaken, her eyes blinking open. As soon as she realized where she was, she stood, glaring at Arthur. Her eyes flashed gold, and a blast of pure power made its way towards the king. The closet knights tried to step forward to protect him, but it wasn't necessary. Merlin deflected the attack with ease. She sent another, yielding the same results. After several seconds of blocking, he sent one back at her, forcing her to the ground once more.

 

Arthur stepped forward. “Morgana. I acknowledge the wrongs that were done to you and your people by my father and myself. I acknowledge that your people were hunted and killed unjustly. If your only crime was treason, you would walk away with your life.

 

“But innocent people died. Civilians. Women and children. I can understand wanting revenge against me and my father, but those people had nothing to do with the law. They had done no wrong. Killing them, destroying their homes and their families, that is inexcusable.”

 

“You’re a hypocrite.” Morgana growled back. “You are no different from your father. You use magic when it is convenient to you, yet kill others for doing the same. How long until you no longer have a use for your servant? How long until you kill him like you do the rest of our kind?”

 

If she was attempting to turn Merlin against him, she should have known better. She should have known that Merlin would never betray him. It wasn’t in his nature. “My beliefs in magic have changed. I know it is not the evil art I once thought it to be. The laws will soon reflect that. Those with magic will no longer be persecuted in Camelot.”

 

Several of the lords looked surprised with varying levels of concern- which Arthur couldn’t help but feel was a bit ridiculous. Merlin was right in front of them, obviously using magic. Did they think he would execute him? Allow him to use magic while killing others for doing the same? He had yet to explain his original plan with Merlin to any of them- not even the knights. If this was how they reacted to Arthur accepting magic, how would they react to him seeking it out?

 

“You say it will not be persecuted, yet you will still execute me.”

 

“Not for magic.” Arthur said. “For murder.”

 

“Then you should punish yourself the same.” Morgana stood, and Merlin allowed her to, watching her warily.

 

“I am trying to change, Morgana. You never will.” Arthur turned away, hesitating. “You will be put to death tomorrow at dawn.” It would be quick. He’d make sure of that. Despite what she had done, he had no desire to watch his sister burn.

 

Two of the knights entered the cell, the drug in hand. As they approached, Morgana threw them back, lashing out with all she could. Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, forcing her against the wall. The knights approached once more, forcing the drug into her mouth as she struggled against the hold of Merlin’s magic. Slowly, her struggles slowed, and Merlin released his magic, allowing her to fall limply to the ground.

 

It wasn’t easy to watch, and by glancing at Merlin, he knew he felt the same way. Arthur didn’t acknowledge the single tear that fell from the other man’s eye. Instead, he grabbed his arm in a gentle but firm grip, and pulled him out of the cell.  

 

Arthur should have known executing Morgana wouldn’t be a simple task. Even with Merlin there to control her, she wasn’t going to go willingly. When the time came, and Merlin had awakened her once more from her drug induced sleep, she had refused to go quietly. It hadn't mattered that Merlin was stronger than her. It hadn't matter if she couldn’t win. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

 

Then she had gone after Arthur.

 

Merlin, on instinct, had thrown her back, cracking her head against the stone dungeon wall.

 

She didn’t wake up that time.

 

Nearly an hour later, after giving orders for what to do with the body, Arthur returned to his chambers. He wasn’t that surprised to see Merlin inside, but it was somewhat surprising to see Mordred. Mordred looked up upon Arthur’s entrance and excused himself from the room.

 

Morgana had protected Mordred once as a boy. She had cared for him. Arthur hadn’t even considered that he might grieve for her as well. It was probably for the best that he wasn’t there to watch her die.

 

“You had no choice.” Arthur said after a long pause, and Merlin turned slightly to look at him. “She was going to die anyways.”

 

“I know.” Merlin said quietly. “I just wish things could have ended up differently.”

 

“So do I.” Arthur hadn’t thought he would miss his sister given her betrayal, or at least not that much, but the hole she left would never be filled.

 

“It’s my fault.”

 

“Don’t.” Arthur said, more sharply than he meant to. “You can’t blame yourself for her actions.”

 

“I poisoned her.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to meet Merlin’s eyes, but the other man refused to look at him. “I don’t understand.”

 

“The sleeping curse. The one that had all of Camelot falling asleep.” Merlin shook his head slightly. “Everyone but Morgana that is.”

 

“What about it?”

 

“She was the source of the spell. The only way to stop it… was to kill her.” He took in a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to, but Morgause… she was going to kill everyone. She would have killed you, and I… I couldn’t let that happen. So I poisoned her.”

 

Arthur paused for a long moment. She had never been kidnapped, had she? She was with Morgause all along. Even back then.

 

And Merlin had poisoned her.

 

“You did what you had to do.” Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he meant it, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

 

“I turned her against Camelot for good.” Merlin finally looked at him, tears filling his eyes. “I was her friend. I poisoned her. I convinced her that no one but Morgause could be trusted. I pushed her away.” He closed his eyes. “I turned her against Camelot. Everything she’s done, every life she’s ever taken, her own life, that all on me.”

 

“No.” Arthur said, walking forward and taking both of Merlin’s shoulders in a firm grip. “She made her choice. We all made mistakes when it came to Morgana, and we wronged her dearly, but at the end of the day, she made her own decisions. You can’t possibly blame yourself for that.”

 

Merlin didn’t respond at first, glancing towards the window. “I need to find Aithusa.”

 

“Aithusa?” Arthur asked, thrown by the turn of the conversation.

 

“The white dragon.” Merlin clarified. “I tried to call for her earlier, but she didn’t respond.”

 

“Surely it can take care of itself?” Arthur tried. “I mean, dragons are powerful creatures.”

 

“You don’t understand.” Merlin shook his head. “I’m a dragonlord. She can’t _not_ respond to my calls. Wherever she is, she can’t leave. She could be hurt.” Or dead.

 

Arthur sighed. “People are asking questions. Just about everyone knows about your magic now, and they want an explanation. And I’m about to begin repealing the laws. Now isn’t a great time to have you leaving Camelot.”

 

“I can’t abandon her, Arthur.” Merlin looked back towards him. “She’s still just a child, and I’m her dragonlord. She’s my responsibility, and I’ve already allowed her to fall into the wrong hands once. I can’t let that happen again.”

 

“Merlin…”

 

“You can’t change my mind.” Merlin said firmly. “I’m sorry. I really am, but I know you can do this without me. You have Gwen and Gaius and the knights. You won’t be alone. And I think you know everything at this point, so you don’t need me to explain anything. With Morgana dead, there’s no current threat to Camelot.” A pause. “She needs me, Arthur. I... I can’t…”

 

“I understand.” Arthur said at last. He didn’t like it, but he understood. “Just… be careful, alright?”

 

Merlin gave Arthur a small smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can."

 

Arthur lowered his head slightly. “Good luck.”

 

End of Arc I: Destiny's Favor


	19. To Understand One's Destiny

Arc II: The White Dragon

 

“As you are all aware,” Arthur began, placing both hands against the round table. “Magic was used to defeat Morgana and her army during her last invasion.” No one looked surprised by this, nor should they. “The man using magic was Merlin, my manservant.”

 

Everyone knew Merlin. After being Arthur’s servant for nearly ten years, there wasn’t a person in the castle who didn’t know who Merlin was. For many, he was the only servant they knew by name, if only because he was next to Arthur at every possible event, and on occasion, one could hear the king yelling his name down the corridors. So while everyone knew Merlin was Arthur’s servant, no one had ever claimed that he was a very particularly skilled servant. He was clumsy, and many accused him of being lazy, though others would disagree. 

 

But a sorcerer?

 

“A few months ago,” Arthur prepared for the backlash. “I asked Merlin to begin learning magic.”

 

This got a reaction out of the room. It would have been easier to just claim that Merlin had always had magic, which was true, but the backlash for Merlin would have been so much worse. 

 

“Sire?” One of the lords spoke up. “Magic is illegal- by your own decree.”

 

“I understand that. I asked Merlin to learn for several reasons, but for one, I wished to discover once and for all if magic was truly evil. And I have come to the conclusion that it is not.” Arthur took a breath. “I will not continue to execute innocent people. The laws against magic will be repealed.”

 

“But sire!” Another, Arthur recognized him to be Lord Merek, spoke up. “Whatever you believe you learned from this sorcerer- they are master manipulators. You cannot trust them. They would see this kingdom in ruin.”

 

“Then why would he save it?” Leon spoke up, surprising Arthur. Out of all his knights, it was Leon he had been most concerned about when it came to Merlin’s magic. He knew the man would never hurt Merlin, nor would he go against Arthur’s orders- he was far too loyal for that- but Arthur had always assumed that Leon would disapprove of the change in the law. He had been his father’s knight first after all. Apparently, he had more allies that he first thought. “If I may, Sire, we all saw what happened. Merlin defeated Morgana and most of her army. He rained lightning down from the skies. He could have easily killed us all, but he did not.”

 

“No one should have that much power.” Merek argued back.

 

“I agree.” Arthur admitted. “One man wielding such power is… disconcerting, but if anyone had to have it, I for one am grateful that it belongs to him. Merlin will not betray me.”

 

“Or so you believe, sire.” Merek shook his head. “You mustn’t allow this  _ sorcerer  _ to twist your mind.”

 

“You forget, Lord Merek.” Arthur locked his eyes onto the man. “I asked Merlin to learn. I’ve been with him through every step of the process. I’ve spent every day with this man for nearly ten years. I would know if the magic had corrupted him.”

 

“Is it possible, sire…” Merek spoke more cautiously, growing visibly concerned. “That he has enchanted you? That once the magic turned him against you, he used such magic to make sure you would never realise it?”

 

“How dare you.” It was Gwaine that spoke up this time. “Merlin saved your life and the lives of everyone in this castle, and you want to accuse him of enchanting our king?!”

 

“He would have good reason to save the castle if he had enchanted the king.” Merek pressed. “He’s already in control in that case. He was protecting his own kingdom!”

 

Guinevere looked towards Merek. “If you knew Merlin, you’d know he would never hurt Arthur.” 

 

“Where is this boy then?” Merek asked. “He’s always joined the king in these meetings before. Where is he now?”

 

“He’s gone off to deal with problems outside of the castle walls.” Arthur answered.

 

“How convenient.”

 

“Enough, Merek.” Arthur said at last. “Your accusations hold no merit. Merlin has always been a trusted servant, and his magic does not change that. With the information I have, I am confident that magic is not as evil as we once believed it to be. The repealing of the law will begin.”

 

Merek had been surprisingly quite throughout the rest of the meeting. He seemed to be the most displeased by this change out of any of the men. That wasn’t particularly surprising. Merek had been a member of the court since the beginning of Uther’s reign. His sister had been killed by magic when they were children, apparently, which had always left the man with a distaste for the practice. When Uther decided to ban it, slaughtering all those who used it, he had been in full support. 

 

What happened to his sister had been wrong, but that didn’t mean he could blame all those with magic for the faults of one. 

 

A knock on his chamber doors broke Arthur out of his thoughts. “Enter.”

 

The door pushed open, and Mordred walked through. “Sire.”

 

“Ah. Mordred.” Arthur walked towards the boy. “I apologize for Merek’s words at the meeting today. I know they don’t know of your magic, but it couldn’t have been easy to hear.”

 

Mordred gave him a shy smile. “I expected no less. I am just grateful the other knights seem far more open.”

 

“Indeed.” While not all of the knights had spoken up, they would all defend Merlin if it came down to it. The knights… they were like brothers. And Merlin had been with them long enough to be included in that. They would not abandon him. 

 

Elyan had been perhaps the most wary. Magic had led to his father’s death after all. However, once Arthur had explained Merlin’s part in recovering Guinevere from the Dark Tower and releasing her from the enchantment that plagued her, Elyan had seemed far more concerned with repaying the man than seeing him as a sorcerer. 

 

Magic had killed his father, but it had also saved his sister. 

 

“When they find out, they will stand by you, Mordred. I can promise that.”

 

“I am grateful.”

 

Arthur walked towards the table, pouring wine from the pitcher into two goblets. “So what brings you here? I assume you didn’t come to discuss Merek.”

 

“I was curious about Merlin, sire.” He accepted the cup with a nod of thanks. “You said in the meeting that he was dealing with problems outside of Camelot. May I ask what it is?”

 

Arthur hadn’t explained what Merlin was doing exactly during the meeting. He didn’t think the other lords, or even the knights for that matter, would approve of a dragon rescue mission. 

 

“He’s gone to look for the white dragon. He believes it to be in some kind of danger.”

 

“A dragon?” Mordred seemed mildly concerned by that. “Forgive me, I know Merlin is an exceptional sorcerer, but a dragon? They are powerful creatures of the Old Religion.”

 

“He’s a dragonlord. From what he’s told me, a dragon cannot refuse his orders.” Arthur glanced at the window. “He’ll be fine.”

 

“A dragonlord… I suppose that explains how he dealt with the dragon when it attacked us near the Cauldron of Arainrhod. I never understood exactly how he made it flee.” 

 

Arthur paused, looking back towards Mordred. “How long have you known about Merlin’s magic?”

 

Mordred froze for a short moment. If Arthur hadn’t been looking for it, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Since he healed me from the Disir.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Not before then?” Mordred didn’t respond. “It’s good of you to protect Merlin, but he told me the truth. That he’s always had magic.”

 

Mordred looked up. “I’m sorry, sire. I… I didn’t know you knew…” A pause. “I’ve always known. Ever since I met him for the first time as a child. I could sense it.”

 

Arthur nodded. “I see.”

 

“He didn’t want to keep it from you.” Mordred interjected. “He used to tell me about how things would be different in the future. He truly believes you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. “

 

“I know.” Arthur said quietly. “He’s a loyal friend.”

 

How many times had Arthur lectured Merlin on the evils of magic? How much must that have hurt? And yet, he remained loyal to a fault. He didn’t deserve Merlin. Yet, he would always have him. That much he was certain of.

 

The door opened once more, and Guinevere walked through, stopping short upon seeing Mordred. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

“Not at all.” Arthur placed his goblet down on the table. “We were just discussing Merlin.” He turned back towards Mordred. “You grew up among the druids. Have you ever heard the name Emrys before?”

 

Mordred hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, sire. The name comes from Druidic prophecies.”

 

“What do you know of these prophecies?”

 

“It is said that Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer that has ever or will ever live. He is magic itself. Magic personified.” Mordred glanced at Guinevere, who was listening intently. “He is supposed to help the Once and Future King to unite the land of Albion and bring magic back to the realm.”

 

“Morgana mentioned Emrys once before, did she not?” Guinevere asked, the question directed at Arthur. “When we retook Camelot.”

 

“Indeed.” Arthur had nearly forgotten about that. “Magic personified?”

 

Mordred nodded. “It is believed that magic took the form of a human, and that human is Emrys.”

 

“Merlin’s just full of surprises now, isn’t he?” He didn’t just have magic. He was magic. He was magic in human form. Who knew magic could be so clumsy?

 

“Merlin?” Guinevere asked. Arthur had yet to tell her of that, he suddenly remembered. “He is Emrys?”

 

“Yes.” Arthur nodded, and by the look on Mordred’s face, he didn’t know Arthur knew that either. “As it turns out, he’s always had magic. By asking him to learn it, I basically just gave him permission to use it more freely around me.” 

 

It explained how he learned so fast. How he used magic without spells. As someone who hadn’t known much of magic to begin with, Arthur hadn’t questioned it, but it made so much more sense. 

 

He must of looked like a fool to Merlin. Asking him to learn magic. 

 

“Is Arthur the Once and Future King, then?” Guinevere asked.

 

“Merlin believes so.” Mordred answered, then glanced to Arthur. “As do I.”

 

Uniting the land of Albion… it would be far from a simple task. But he had already made allies of Nemeth and Caerleon. Camelot was already on good terms with Gawant and Mercia. Against all odds, Odin and Arthur had made peace. There was still Amata, but Arthur had yet to hear anything from them since their assassination attempt. Perhaps uniting the land was not as far fetched as it seemed.

 

And bringing magic back to the realm? Was that not what he was already doing? It was a fact that many kingdoms banned the use of magic simply out of fear of inciting Camelot’s wrath. There was nothing more frightening than a grief stricken king, and Camelot had always been a powerful kingdom. Some kingdoms, like Amata, had already banned sorcery long before Uther did. But others, such as Nemeth, had only done so after pressure from Camelot. 

 

If Camelot lifted the ban, others would surely follow. And those with magic within Amata would have greater options to flee to for sanctuary. No sorcerer would willing live in Amata, but what about the children born with their powers? Magic would not discriminate based on where they lived. How many children did Sarrum slaughter every year?

 

How many children had his own father slaughtered?

 

How many children had  _ Arthur  _ slaughtered under his father’s command?

 

How many druid camps had he raided, taking no prisoners? He hadn’t wanted to. Even if they had magic, murdering defenseless civilians had given him nightmares for weeks. Months. Years.

 

He had tried to make it as quick and painless as possible. He had tried to tell the others to spare the women and children, but many had ignored the order. Their hatred for magic was far too ingrained in them. It didn’t matter if it was a child. It had magic, and therefore it should die. 

 

Would the guilt ever fade? Was repealing the ban enough to right his sins? Would he ever be able to be a man of peace with the blood of children on his hands?

 

Well. He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try. 


	20. A Child of Magic

The process of repealing a nearly thirty year old law was never going to be a quick one. Or an easy one for that matter. Some of the lords had started to come around to the idea, but others were firmly against it. Nothing Arthur said would ever convince them. Some even demanded that Merlin stand trial for his crimes. It didn’t matter that he only learned magic with Arthur’s permission- as far as they knew anyways. 

 

Some, specifically Merek, still advocated for the idea that Arthur was under an enchantment. At this point, he seemed more concerned with convincing everyone else than convincing Arthur. 

 

And then a child from the lower town was arrested.

 

“Magic is still against the law, sire! She is guilty! She must be punished.” Merek demanded. 

 

“I will not execute a child for breaking a law that is unjust and in the process of being repealed.” He would not kill a child. Not again. Never again. 

 

“It is in the process of being repealed, but it has not yet been repealed. This child had broken the law.”

 

“She did not hurt anyone.” One of the other lords joined in hesitantly. “Perhaps, given the circumstances, a pardon would be appropriate.”

 

“Ridiculous!”

 

“She’s not even ten summers old.” Arthur interjected. “Born and raised in Camelot. Her powers must have come naturally.”

 

“Naturally, sire?” Another lord questioned. “Is such a thing possible?”

 

“It happened with Morgana.” And Merlin. “There’s no reason to believe it could not happen to others.” 

 

“Then we must determine the truth.” Merek declared. “I propose trial by ordeal to determine whether or not this sorceress is guilty.”

 

“Absolutely not.” While sometimes used in his father’s time, trial by ordeal was little above torture. “I will not have a child put through such a thing. She will be pardoned.”

 

“But sire!” Arthur sent a glare in Merek’s direction, and the man went quiet.

 

“Sire, if I may…” One of the older knights spoke up. “It is as they said. Magic is still illegal. By now, word of her… powers… has certainly made its rounds. There could be danger in releasing her.”

 

“Danger?” Arthur questioned. “I doubt this child is dangerous.”

 

“Of course, sire, forgive me. I mean the child may be in danger.” The knight clarified. “People are still frightened of magic. She could be attacked, and I fear Camelot’s guards may turn a blind eye to the pain of a sorcerer. At least while magic is still against the law.”

 

Arthur hadn’t considered that. Would his people attack their own? Fear often pushed people to do things they would otherwise not. And his own guards? Would they stand back and watch as a child was hurt?

 

If that child had magic…

 

“Yes, I believe you may be right.” Arthur began, folding his hands together. “She will be kept in the cells until the ban is repealed. But.” He turned towards his knights. “I want her well cared for. She is not to be treated as an ordinary prisoner.”

 

Merek wasn’t pleased by the decision, but the others agreed- most were satisfied as long as she was not set free immediately. Once the meeting was over, Arthur made his way down to the dungeons and to the occupied cell. The girl was curled in the corner, looking ever so small. She lifted her head upon hearing his footsteps, and her eyes widened in fear as she recognized the man standing before her. 

 

Arthur turned the key in the lock and entered the cell, shutting it behind him. He didn’t approach any further, not wanting to scare the child any more than he already had.

 

“Hello.” Arthur tried. “Annabelle, right?”

 

The child didn’t answer at first, but slowly nodded. “You’re the king.”

 

“Yes I am.” Arthur took a step closer. 

 

“I’m sorry.” The child whimpered, folding her head back into her arms. “I didn’t mean to.”

 

“I know.” He said softly. “It was an accident. That’s all.”

 

“Am I going to burn?”

 

And with that, Arthur’s heart shattered. It wasn’t the fear in her voice that scared him the most- it was the resignation. It was the same resignation Arthur had seen in Merlin back in the Crystal Cave- the same resignation he had seen in Mordred when Arthur had found out about his magic.

 

“No. You won’t. I promise.” Annabelle’s head poked out once more, prompting Arthur to continue. “Soon, you’ll be with your family again, but I need you to stay here just a bit longer. No one will harm you.”

 

“I want my mother.” The child sniffed, and Arthur spotted the dried tear tracks covering her cheeks. “I… I want my mother.”

 

“I’ll bring her to you.” Arthur tried. “I’m sorry you can’t go home yet, but I’ll bring your mother and father here to see you. Would that be alright?”

 

Annabelle nodded slowly, a sob forming in her throat. Arthur wasn’t sure what to do. He had never been good with crying people- whether it be Merlin, a child, or even Guinevere. He walked forwards a bit more and continued when the girl didn’t flinch away from his approach. He crouched down in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

 

Taking the unintended cue, the girl unraveled, wrapping her arms around the king. She was small- smaller than she probably should have been at her age. Arthur froze, but recovered quickly enough. It wasn’t the first time he wished Merlin was still in Camelot. He would have been better at this than him. Perhaps he should call for Guinevere?

 

No. This was his responsibility.

 

He ran a hand through the child’s hair, shushing her as she cried. “It’s alright. Everything’s going to be fine. You have my word. No harm will come to you.”

 

He would make sure of that. 

 

“You did the right thing.” Guinevere had said once he returned to their chambers. “The girl doesn’t deserve to be punished.”

 

“I went to see her.” Arthur said, though Guinevere probably already knew. “She…” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “She thought she was going to be sent to the pyre.”

 

“Oh, Arthur.” Guinevere walked towards him, pity in her eyes. 

 

“Is that what people think? Is that… is that how she was raised? How many? How many children think I will burn them?” Arthur sat down on the bed, and Guinevere sat next to him. “I never wanted my people to fear me.”

 

She took his hands into her own. “Your father would have shown her no mercy. It’s understandable that she would be afraid.”

 

“I haven’t burned anyone since becoming king. Have I not made it clear that I am not my father?”

 

“Of course you have.” She squeezed his hands. “But fear can be a difficult thing to overcome. That will change in time. I am sure of it. Annabelle’s release, when that comes, will be proof of that.”

 

“Did you know her?” Arthur turned his head towards her. 

 

“Yes.” Guinevere nodded. “I knew her mother anyways, back when I was still a servant. I was there when Annabelle was born.” 

 

Guinevere grew silent after that, and Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?”

 

“There’s something I need to tell you, and I’m not sure how you will react.” She said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

 

Panic began to curl in his gut. Was she ill? Was she hurt? Had she… no. No, she wouldn’t do that to him. Not again. “What?” 

 

She turned back to look at him. “I’m pregnant.”

 

Arthur’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes widened. “You’re…”

 

“Yes.”

 

“This is…” Terrifying. The panic didn’t cease as seconds passed by. Instead it only grew. This was how his mother had died. His father had killed thousands after her death. What would Guinevere’s death do to him? She wouldn’t die. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. “Wonderful.” Arthur finally settled on.

 

Guinevere smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

 

“How far along…”

 

“I’ve suspected for a month now. Gaius only confirmed it a week ago.”

 

“A week…” Arthur shook his head slightly in confusion. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

 

She looked away. “I wasn’t sure what you’d say. Your mother…” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you rejecting our child.”

 

“Never.” Arthur cupped her cheek with his hand. “That will  _ never  _ happen.”

 

Guinevere’s smile widened, and Arthur leaned it to kiss her. Guinevere would be fine. She was strong. Nothing would happen to her. She was a wonderful queen, and she would be a wonderful mother. Of that he was certain. 

 

They decided to keep the news to themselves for the time being. With all the tension that came from the ban being repealed, news of an heir didn’t seem like the best thing to bring up. It could be used to lighten the mood later on, but for now, the last thing Arthur needed was people trying to use that against him.  _ Do you really want your child to grow up in a world of evil? Does your child have magic? Is that why your lifting the ban? Can it use magic before it is even born? _

 

_ Did you use magic to get the queen pregnant? _

 

Arthur wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his cool with those kind of accusations- not when they hit so close to home. Gaius already knew, and Elyan, of course, was told. If Merlin returned home before the official announcement, they would tell him as well. But for now, the rest of the kingdom would remain ignorant. 

 

The news of his impending child was the only thing that kept him from snapping entirely during the next council meeting.

 

One of the lords, Merek, because of course it was Merek, came into the meeting several minutes late. Arthur had been hoping the man had decided not to come at all, but he should have known he would not be so lucky.

 

“Sire. I have made a horrifying discovery.” The man walked briskly towards them, placing what looked like a poultice on the table. “I discovered this under your pillow, sire. You are enchanted, as I have said.”

 

“That’s absurd.” Arthur declared, taking the poultice into his own hand. “Why would you have been in my chambers to begin with?”

 

“I believed my king was in danger, so I did what I had to do.”

 

“You mean you broke into the King’s chambers?” Leon interjected.

 

“I was looking for evidence of an enchantment.” Merek defended himself. “And I was right to do so.”

 

Many of the lords, and even some of the knights, though none of his core five, started to look convinced. To find a poultice… even some who never believed Arthur to be enchanted seemed to be changing their minds.

 

But Arthur wasn’t enchanted. He knew he wasn’t. There had to be another reason for it.

 

“Sire, if I may.” Mordred stood and, with a nod from Arthur, grabbed the poultice. After a moment, Mordred shook his head. “There is no power in this, sire. It holds no enchantment.”

 

“How could you possibly know that?” Merek questioned.

 

Mordred hesitated. “Because I am a druid. And I have magic.”

 

Everyone, even the knights, looked shocked at the confession. Only Arthur and Guinevere were not. 

 

A moment went by before Mordred continued, well aware of the disgust and hatred in many of the eyes that stared him down. “I can sense magic. This holds no power.”

 

“Isn’t it obvious!” Merek exclaimed. “This  _ sorcerer  _ has helped your servant to infiltrate the castle. Of course he would defend him. They are working together!”

 

“I will not listen to any more accusations against Merlin.”

 

“And now he’s conveniently disappeared, right when his facade is discovered.”

 

“Merlin has not disappeared. He is dealing with issues outside of Camelot.”

 

“And what kind of issues would they be, sire?”

 

“Lord Merek!” Leon interjected. “This is your king. You shall treat him with respect.”

 

“If you must know.” Arthur began. “Merlin has gone to locate the white dragon that had been found alongside Morgana. Such a creature could be a danger to Camelot, and I have entrusted him to make sure it will cause us no further harm.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, nor was it entirely the truth. Arthur turned to Gaius. “Can you identify the purpose of this poultice?”

 

“I can certainly try, sire.” Arthur placed the poultice in front of Gaius who unraveled the string. The contents seemed to be mostly herbs and perhaps some rocks. “These ingredients have no place in a magical spell of any kind. Whoever made this has no knowledge of the magical arts. I can only assume that it is a fake.”

 

Arthur looked up to Merek, face set in stone. “You have created a fake poultice in the hopes of convincing the room that I am enchanted.”

 

“No!” Merek yelled, pointing towards Gaius. “Merlin is the physician's ward, is he not? Of course he would protect him. Or perhaps Merlin has enchanted him as well!”

 

“Enough. You have lied to and betrayed your king.” Arthur raised his head. “Arrest him.”

 

The guards on the door walked forward, taking hold of the man’s arms, and pulling him out of the room- Merek protesting the entire time. 

 

Was this how far people were willing to go? Did people’s hatred of magic run so deep, that they were willing to risk everything to prove a false point? At least with Merek now gone, the process of repealing the ban would quicken. It was only a matter of time before he could right the wrongs of both his father and himself.


	21. Traitors and Friends

In a way, Arthur was almost grateful that Merek had acted out as he had. Kicking the man out of the council for disagreeing with him would have led to quite a lot of pushback, but outright lying to your king? Coming up with a plot to trick the rest of the council into thinking Arthur was enchanted? Merek had condemned himself. 

 

Arthur made his way down to the dungeons, preparing to speak to Merek personally. He wasn’t quite sure what his punishment would be. All things considered, Arthur would be more than happy just to see the man out of the council, but his crimes were serious. 

 

The sound of crying made Arthur pause for a long moment. The girl. Was she still so upset? He had already made plans to have the girl’s parents brought to visit her that night. Perhaps she had thought it would be sooner. 

 

Arthur made his way towards the girl’s cell, entering it after a moment of hesitation. The girl was wrapped in a thick blanket that hadn’t been there before. One of the knights, or perhaps Guinevere, must have brought it for her after he had left the other night. She was crying- no, sobbing- and had been doing so for awhile from her redness in her face. She seemed even more upset than she had when Arthur first visited her.

 

“Annabelle?” Arthur tried. “Are you alright?” Stupid question. Stupid. Of course she wasn't alright. She was arrested for a crime with the death penalty. She had been in the cells for days. Oh, yeah, and she was  _ ten _ .

 

She looked up, pushing herself further into the corner. Arthur approached slowly, trying to ignore the way she stared at him in pure, unadulterated terror.

 

It was then that Arthur spotter her hand. It was burnt. Badly.

 

Arthur reached forward to grab her wrist, taking it in a gentle hold. The entire hand was hurt- the back and the front. Even between the fingers. Almost as if it had been put in boiling water.

 

Trial by ordeal. Merek.

 

Arthur stood, walking towards the door of the cell. “Guards!” The guards ran towards him, pulling out their swords- like Arthur would need protection from a child. “Take her to Gaius now. And if any more harm comes to her, I will have both of your heads. Do you understand?”

 

The guards nodded nervously and entered the cell. Annabelle began to panic, her breaths short and fast, so Arthur approached her once more. 

 

“It’s alright. No one is going to hurt you.”

 

“You said that last time!” More tears fell down her cheeks.

 

“I know.” Arthur closed his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know this had happened. The guards are going to take you to Gaius. The physician. He’ll help your hand, alright?” 

 

The girl didn’t respond, but she also didn’t struggle as the guards hauled her up and escorted her out of the room.

 

Merek. That traitorous bastard. 

 

“You.” Arthur pointed at the man once he reached the cell. “You went against my orders and performed trial by ordeals.”

 

“I-”

 

“Enough!” Arthur yelled, frightening the man into silence. “I have had enough of your ways. You have lied to your king. You have purposefully disobeyed my orders. You went behind my back.”

 

“To protect you, my lord!” Merek stood from his place on the cell floor. “I am merely attempting to show you the truth.”

 

“I have seen the truth. I have seen that there are some so blinded by the past that they will never be able to move forward. I will not have those kind of people within my kingdom.” Arthur nearly growled. “Not only have you betrayed me, you have tortured an innocent child. You are hereby banished from Camelot.”

 

“Sire!” Merek went pale. “You are enchanted. You must believe me! Yes, I made the poultice, but only because I had no other proof. Your servant has bewitched you. I was only trying to make you see reason.”

 

“You should be grateful, Merek, that I do not have you executed.”

 

“What would your father say, sire?” Merek pressed, moving closer to the king through the bars. “What would he say about what you’ve done to his kingdom?”

 

“You mean  _ my  _ kingdom.” Merlin had said something similar to him once long ago, after his confrontation with his father in the spirit world. “A guard will come to release you at first light. Go and never return on pain of death.”

 

“My lord!”

 

“I was  _ never  _ your lord, Merek. You may have been a valued member of my father’s court, but you were never one in mine.”

 

With that, Arthur turned and left the cells, fury burning through every bone in his body. Annabelle. He had  _ tortured  _ her. Everything Merek had done to him, he could look past, but this? This had crossed a line. 

 

Arthur went up the stairs and headed straight for the physician's chambers. Gaius was sitting next to Annabelle, wrapping her hand with care. They both looked up upon Arthur’s entrance.

 

“How is she?” Arthur asked, walking towards them.

 

“The burns are severe, sire.” Gaius admitted. “I’ve covered them in a salve that should help, but there is already sign of infection.” Now in better lighting, Arthur could see just have pale she was, and her brow burned with fever. 

 

“Does-” Annabelle sniffed. “Does that mean I failed?”

 

Arthur looked towards the girl. “What?”

 

“He said that if it hurt, I was a liar.” She looked up at the king with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to lie. I’m… I’m sorry…” 

 

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You should have never been hurt. What if I get someone to grab your parents- bring them here to see you?”

 

Annabelle nodded rapidly, sealing the decision. Arthur walked towards the door, flagging down the first guard he could find, and gave them the order to bring the girl’s parents to the physician’s chambers.

 

Arthur turned back around, making his way back to Annabelle. He hesitated a moment before kneeling down in front of her, taking her unhurt hand into his own. 

 

“I’m sorry this happened. I promised you that you would be safe, and I broke that promise.” Arthur paused, closing his eyes briefly before opening them once more. “There are a lot of people in this world that are going to tell you that your magic is evil. And because of that, you are evil.” Annabelle looked away, and Arthur reached up to cup her cheek and make her look at him once more. “They are wrong. I was wrong. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m trying to fix them. Can you forgive me for allowing you to be hurt on my watch?”

 

The girl watched him for a moment, and a small smile began to cover her face. She nodded once, and Arthur smiled back. 

 

The door opened behind them. Their identity was confirmed when the girl looked past him. “Mother! Father!” 

 

Arthur moved out of the way so the pair of them could see to their daughter. 

 

“Annabelle. My dear.” The mother ran a hand through the girl’s hair. Her eyes latched onto her hand surprisingly quick. “Oh, my dear.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Arthur interjected. “That… was never meant to happen. The one responsible has been dealt with already.” The mother seemed to notice him in the room for the firm time and went stiff. “Once she is well enough, she will be returned to you. I will not have her in the cells any longer.”

 

The father turned towards him. “You will not punish her for her…” He seemed reluctant to say the word.

 

“The process of repealing the law against magic has already begun.” They both seemed shocked by that. “This isn’t public knowledge yet, and I’d like to keep it that way for now.” Arthur looked away for a moment. “I am truly sorry for what your family has been put through because of my laws.”

 

“I appreciate that, sire.” The mother spoke quietly. 

 

Arthur stayed for only a moment longer before leaving. No one wanted the king there. He couldn’t blame them. 

 

The lord was gone at first light as Arthur had commanded. He seemed to have put enough fear in the man for him to not question his orders this time around. Because he  _ would _ have killed him. He would have executed him without a moment's hesitation if he had defied him once again. Part of him wished he had done just that.

 

“I wanted to thank you.” Arthur said to Mordred when he managed to find him in the armory a few hours later. “What you did the in council chambers, revealing yourself, it couldn’t have been easy.”

 

“It was bound to happen eventually.” Mordred responded, looking far more worn than Arthur had seen him in recent times. Perhaps ever. “I suppose it was good to get it over with.”

 

“How has the response been?” Arthur asked, suddenly concerned. “The knights?”

 

“No one has done anything to cause me harm.” Mordred assured him. “Some of them… especially the ones I don’t know very well, they seem afraid of me. As if I might turn on them at a moment’s notice.”

 

“That will change in time.” Arthur tried, feeling less confident by the day. “It was unexpected, that’s all.”

 

“Of course.” Mordred said quietly, sounding far from convinced.

 

“Mordred…” Arthur began, then paused for a moment, before starting once more. “With what’s happening right now in Camelot… do you feel safe?” It was the same question he had asked Merlin not so long ago. “I know it must be difficult to hear accusations like Merek’s against you. You’ve been a loyal knight.”

 

“I am grateful you think so, sire.” Mordred turned towards Arthur. “It’s not that I don’t feel safe. I can defend myself well enough. I'm not going to just sit there and take a beating like Merlin might. I…” He looked away. “I suppose I’m just afraid that those I care about will abandon me because of my magic. Because of what I am. The knights… Leon, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan… they’re like brothers to me. I don’t want to lose them.”

 

“Have they said something to make you believe you would?”

 

“No.” Mordred said after a moment. “To be fair, they haven’t said much at all. I don’t think they wish to be around me anymore.”

 

His knights should be better than this. Mordred was a brother in arms. How dare they turn him away. “I’ll talk to them.”

 

“No, don’t.” Mordred said, rushed. “It’s like you said. It was unexpected. They’ll come around. I hope.” He looked back towards Arthur. “And I don’t want them to accept me because you told them to. There’s no point in that.”

 

Mordred was still so young. It was easy to forget sometimes. He spent so much time around knights much older than him, but he was still a boy.- about the same age Merlin had been when he first came to Camelot. And in a way, he was so much like him. Mordred was far less insolent, but they both had a desire to do the right thing. And more than anything, they desired acceptance. Not power. Not gold. Not a throne. Acceptance.

 

What kind of world did they live in when such a thing was so hard to find for so many? 

 

The knights would come around, like Mordred had said. Is this how they would have been treating Merlin if he had still been here? Was that the real reason behind Merlin’s sudden desire to leave immediately and not return for who knows how long? Was he so afraid of the reaction of his friends that he would run away? 

 

No. Even if Merlin had been afraid, which he very well could have been, he wouldn’t have lied. Merlin was out there looking for the dragon. It didn’t matter if weeks had passed without any word from him. He would come home eventually. He always did, and he always would.

 

Arthur didn’t see Mordred again until training a few days later. Leon had been running the training sessions ever since Morgana’s attack due to Arthur being far too caught up in the changes being made to the law to participate. 

 

When Arthur got down to the field and saw Mordred sporting a dark bruise across his jaw, he had been furious. Much to his displeasure, Mordred had been unwilling to give up any names, assuring the king that it had been taken care of- that they wouldn’t bother him again. With the lack of information Mordred told him, he had been forced to more or less let it go. 

 

But then he had seen Gwaine’s bruised knuckles.

 

If he had been angry before, now he was livid. How dare he. How  _ dare  _ he. He expected better from his knights. How dare they attack one of their own.

 

But it didn’t make sense.

 

Mordred had been punched. Hard. Hard enough to leave an angry, purple bruise across a quarter of his face. But that shouldn't have been enough to bruise someone’s knuckles. You’d have to hit someone a hell of a lot more than that to get that kind of damage on your own hands. So how did Gwaine bruise his knuckles from one hit?

 

The answer was simple. 

 

He didn’t.

  
Perhaps Mordred was right. Whoever  _ was  _ responsible had certainly been dealt with, and they wouldn’t be bothering him again. And if Arthur noticed Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine watching Mordred more closely than usual, then that was fine, too.


	22. A Promise of Protection

Arthur opened the door to the physician's chambers, immediately spotting Annabelle lying on the cot. Her parents had left the night before, leaving only Gaius and the child in the room.

 

Gaius looked up upon his arrival. “Sire. Is there something I can help you with?”

 

“I just wanted to see how she was doing.” Arthur glanced at the girl, who seemed to be fast asleep.

 

The physician grimaced. “The infection is more severe than I first thought, but she is an otherwise healthy child. She has a good chance of pulling through.”

 

Arthur blinked, frozen. He hadn’t realized how serious the injuries were. Painful? Yes. Life threatening? The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “But she will be alright?”

 

“Only time will tell.” Gaius hesitated. “If you plan on staying for a moment, Arthur, there are some supplies I need to pick up. I do not wish to leave her alone.”

 

“I’ll stay with her.” Arthur said quietly, lowering himself onto the wooden chair next to the bed.

 

“Thank you, sire.” Gaius said sincerely, and a few moments later, he was gone.

 

Arthur couldn’t stop himself from placing his hand on Annabelle’s forehead, wincing at the heat that radiated from it. She was far too warm- dangerously so. He scanned the room, hopping up when he found the item it was looking for.

 

The king dipped a cloth into the water, ringed the excess out, and pressed it against her forehead. It wasn’t long before the cloth became warm, and Arthur dipped it back into the water to cool it off.  

 

Annabelle’s eyes began to blink open, moving around the room until they came to rest on Arthur. “King A-Arthur?”

 

“Yes, it’s me.” Arthur placed the cloth back onto her head.

 

The girl began to smile. “I told my mother we were friends now, but I don’t think she believed me.” Her voice seemed so much weaker than before.

 

“Not many people get to be friends with kings.” Arthur responded. “I imagine it must be hard to believe.”

 

Annabelle hummed in agreeance. “When can I go home?”

 

Arthur dipped the cloth back into the water. “As soon as you get better.”

 

“I wanna go home.”

 

“I know.” Arthur said softly. “But you’re sick right now. You need care.”

 

Annabelle fell silent for several seconds. “Will I ever get to see you again? After I go home?”

 

“If you want to, I’m sure we can make that happen.” Arthur thought for a moment, leaning in. “Would you like to know a secret?” The girl nodded rapidly. “The queen is pregnant. Perhaps, when the child is born, the two of you could become friends.”

 

Annabelle looked mildly offended by this notion. “I can’t be friends with a baby.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”

 

“Cause.” She seemed to be looking for a good explanation, but could find none.

 

“Do you have any siblings, Annabelle?” Arthur asked, and she shook her head. “Well, neither do they.” Not yet, at least. “Perhaps they would like an older sister?”

 

Annabelle furrowed her eyebrows. “But I’m not their sister.”

 

“But you could be like their sister. If you wanted to. You could be friends...” Arthur trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had thought that the news might excite her, but she didn’t seem to be particularly interested.

 

But then Annabelle smiled. “I could be their friend.” She paused as if deep in thought.

“But only if they’re a girl.”

 

Arthur laughed, stopping immediately when Annabelle let out a quiet groan. He pressed the cloth to her face once again. Like many times before, Arthur desperately wished that Merlin was still in Camelot. Perhaps he could have healed her- eased her suffering. He had already asked Mordred if he could heal the burn, but the druid had said it was simply to severe for him to help. Merlin might have been able to, but not him.

 

It had been weeks since Merlin had left, and there had been no word of him since. No messages. No being spotted by the patrols. Nothing. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

 

It was hard not to be concerned, but he was Emrys. Morgana was dead. Who out there could hope to do him any harm? Merlin, as he recently learned, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was fine.

 

When Gaius returned to the room with his supplies, Arthur fled far more quickly than he would ever be willing to admit. He couldn’t stand to watch her in pain- not when it was his fault.

 

It was another week before a first draft of the new law was written, followed by another week of arguing. Arthur had hoped that, with Merek gone, the process would move along a bit faster, but there were still disagreements. Getting everyone to agree on anything was near impossible.

 

At the end of the day, he was the king. He didn’t need their permission to bring back magic, just like his father had not needed their permission to outlaw it. But changes like these… they needed support. Guinevere supported him of course, as did Gaius, and his knights would follow his lead no matter where it led. The lords were another matter entirely.

 

Arthur closed his eyes briefly in pure exhaustion as he made his way back to his chambers. The draft had been picked apart until nothing really remained. He’d have to start over once more, hoping to find a wording that the others didn’t dismiss.

 

He opened the doors to his chambers, letting them shut behind him as he entered the room. He blinked several times at the image in front of him. Had the stress finally gotten to him?

 

Because a white dragon was curled up on his bed, looking at Arthur as if _he_ was the intruder.

 

“What the…” Arthur reached for his sword, and the dragon curled up tighter.

 

Despite what Arthur would have assumed, the dragon made no move to attack him. It watched him warily but otherwise stayed where it was. Arthur took a step forward, taking another when the dragon did not react.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur said hopefully, looking around the room, but there was no sign of the dragonlord. Surely he wouldn’t have just dropped it off and left? His eyes leapt towards the window, which was shattered inwardly. “Ah. You…” You came in the window. Wonderful. He turned back towards the dragon. “Where’s Merlin?”

 

The dragon mewled quietly in response.

 

“Come on. Where is he?” The dragon said nothing once more. The other dragon had spoken, so why didn’t this one? Merlin had said it was just a child. Perhaps it had not yet learned.

 

Looking over the creature once more, it became alarmingly obviously how… unwell it was. It was skin and bones, and while Arthur didn’t spend enough time with dragons to know exactly how they were supposed to look, he knew this one was far too thin.

 

The Sarrum had captured it once, had he not? The way the man had described keeping the creature, in a hole far too small, it’s body deforming as it grew… even an untrained eye could see the way the wings seemed bend and curve in a way they were never meant to.

 

Arthur backed away slowly, opening the door to his chambers, and flagging down the first servant he saw with orders to bring him food. Meat. Lots of meat. If the servant thought him odd, which they certainly did, they didn’t show it. Merlin would have questioned why, but he was never a normal servant, now was he?

 

Now it was just a question as to where Merlin was. He wouldn’t have left, so it must have returned without him. He’d send out scouts in the morning to track the man down. It was possible he didn’t even know the dragon was here.

 

“Aithusa, right?” Arthur tried, reaching out a hand towards the creature. It let out a short whine, tilting its head away from the approaching hand. He put his arm down, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you don’t hurt anyone else.”

 

Despite not being able to speak, the creature seemed to understand what he was saying- at least to some extent. A knock sounded on the door, and Arthur opened it, taking the tray of food from the servant. He hadn’t claiffied a type of meat, so there was a large diversity. Chicken legs. Slices of ham. Sausages.

 

The dragon lifted its head up at the smell of food, looking over at the tray in Arthur’s hands. He placed it on the bed, and the creature immediately began to devour the food. By the time it was finished, there wasn’t a single piece of meat left, and the tray was badly damaged- bite marks and all. That would be difficult to explain to the kitchen staff.

 

The dragon seemed more relaxed after the meal. It was probably still hungry- the amount of food would have been more than enough for a human, but perhaps not a dragon- but seemed satisfied for the moment.

 

Arthur hadn’t actually intended on the dragon ever staying in Camelot, and certainly not without Merlin here to control it. Getting it out of Camelot, however, would be difficult to say the least. But perhaps it wasn’t necessary. The creature was quite small after all, and it seemed docile enough. It could stay while they waited for Merlin to return, as long as it stayed out of trouble.

 

The door opened behind him, and Arthur reached for one of the folded sheets on the chest at the foot of the bed, and threw it over the dragon in a rushed panic. Why he would panic didn’t make much sense. He was the king. If he wanted a dragon in his chambers, he could very well have a dragon in his chambers. But for some reason he didn’t look forward to that news circling the castle.

 

“Arthur?” It was Guinevere who had entered, and Arthur turned around to look at her. “What is that?”

 

“What?” Arthur asked, leaning against the bed frame.

 

She raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the moving lump on the bed.

 

“Ah.” He said, scratching his head. “So you noticed?”

 

Arthur sighed when Guinevere didn’t respond, and reached forward to pull the sheet off of the dragon. It seemed mildly annoyed at the action but didn’t otherwise react.

 

Guinevere's eyes widened as she looked over the creature. “I… That’s the dragon… the one Merlin is looking for…”

 

“Yep.”

 

“What is it…” She took a step forward. “What is she doing here?”

 

“I haven’t the slightest idea. It came in through the window.” He nodded towards the broken glass. “I only just discovered it a few minutes ago.”

 

“She’s beautiful.” Guinevere reached a hand out, and the dragon didn’t move away as she stroked the top of its head. “What was her name again?”

 

“Aithusa.” Arthur responded, growing uncomfortable with how close his wife was to the potentially dangerous creature. “Don’t get too close.”

 

“She’s not going to hurt me.” Guinevere said, and the dragon pressed its head into her hand. As if it was craving the touch. As if it was craving affection. “Just look at her.”

 

“Just…” Arthur sighed. “Be careful.”

 

“Merlin said she was trapped somewhere, right?” Guinevere asked, and Arthur nodded in response. “Perhaps she was stuck. A rock fall trapped her in a cave, or something. And she escaped on her own.”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“It would explain why she’s so thin.” Guinevere rubbed a hand down the creature’s side, feeling the ribs. “She wouldn’t have been able to catch food if that were the case.”

 

“But why come to Camelot?” Arthur questioned. “It escapes. Okay. But why would it come here?”

 

“For safety?”

 

“It was loyal to Morgana.” Arthur argued. “I doubt it thinks of Camelot as a safe place.”

 

“Maybe she thought Merlin would be here.”

 

“Maybe.” Arthur rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just not sure what to do now.”

 

“You won’t hurt her, surely?” Guinevere, perhaps unconsciously, took a protective stance in front the creature. “She’s just a child, is she not? She’s harmless.”

 

Harmless isn’t exactly the word Arthur would have used. “Of course not. Merlin would end me if I killed his precious baby dragon.” It was true. Well. No it wasn’t. Merlin would be angry beyond belief. He would be heartbroken, and perhaps he would leave Camelot. But Merlin would never _kill_ him.

 

Guinevere sat on the bed, and the creature placed its head in her lap. Aithusa truly was pitiful. It was hurt, and hungry, and without Morgana, it seemed desperate for any kind of love, no matter who it came from.

 

They ended up allowing Aithusa to stay on the bed that night, and by allow, it was more a matter of the creature not wanting to move, and Guinevere glaring at him when he spoke of moving it by force. It was small and frail, and from the way it moved, it seemed to be in pain. The more Arthur thought on it, the more concerned he became.

 

Why would it come to Camelot? It made no sense. Why to Arthur’s room specifically? And if moving caused it so much pain, why did it? It couldn’t have been close to Camelot- Merlin would have found it sooner if that was the case. It had been far away, and it had made its way all the way to the castle. It didn’t make sense. Not an ounce of sense.

 

Unless Merlin ordered it to return to Camelot. Unless Merlin had found it and gave it a command it could not disobey. If he ordered Aithusa to go to Arthur, that would explain why it was in his room. But where was Merlin? And knowing it was in such pain, why would he order it to make such a trip? Why would he torture it in such a way?

 

Unless the alternative was so much worse.

 

Merlin was in trouble. Arthur’s suspicion was confirmed when the scouts he sent to look for Merlin arrived back a few days later empty handed. There was no sign of him.

 

He sent out a search party the next day, but there was no point. Merlin wasn’t in Camelot. They wouldn’t find him. Only Aithusa would know where he was, but it couldn’t tell them. It would have to lead them to him, but it was hardly in a position to do so at the moment. How it made it to Camelot in the first place was a wonder. It had been pushed beyond its limits, and now it would need to recover. The dragon would need time, and that was something they didn’t have.

 

Arthur ordered more meat for it in the morning, and Guinevere came back from a butcher in the lower town with even more. Aithusa ate all of it in a starving fit, consuming every last morsel.

 

After its meal, it leapt off the bed, wailing at the impact as its feet hit the ground. Arthur rushed forward without thinking, kneeling next to the creature. It didn’t seem to have injured itself any further- just aggravated previous injuries. For the first time, Arthur saw the white lines that covered its entire body. It had been impossible to spot from afar as they nearly matched its normal white color. Scars. It had been tortured. Whether these were from the Sarrum or from its more recent capture, Arthur didn’t know, but he had a sinking feeling that it was both.

 

Dragons had always been something to be feared. Evil, magical creatures that destroy everything in their wake. The dragon beneath the castle that had attacked and killed so many civilians after its escape had only furthered that belief.

 

But this thing? This pathetic, mewling creature? Evil?

 

No.

 

Arthur could finally understand Merlin’s desire to protect her. She really was just a child, and she was in pain.

 

They would find Merlin. He was certain of that, but until then, Arthur would look after the creature. No more harm would come to her. He would make sure of it.


	23. The Search Begins

When Arthur next awoke, it was to the news that Annabelle was dead. 

 

The burn had been left untreated for several days before Arthur had found her. The infection had been too severe at that point for Gaius to do much. He had treated her the best he could, Arthur knew, but it hadn’t been enough. 

 

If he had gone down to the cells just one day earlier…

 

He shouldn’t have kept her imprisoned in the first place. Arthur had been trying to protect her, and in doing so, he had killed her. He had killed yet another child. 

 

His entire life, Arthur had been told of the evils of magic. It brought destruction with it everywhere it went. Death followed it like a disease. A plague. And if you got too close, it would take you, too.

 

But this death wasn’t from magic. Magic wasn’t at fault. It was fear of magic that killed this child. It was distrust and bigotry. And she was tortured and killed because of it. This is what his father had stood for. This was what his father’s kingdom had created.

 

Things would have to change. Not just the laws. The laws would mean nothing. Merek was ordered not to hurt the child, and he had done so anyways. No law would have prevented that. It was the people that would need to change. If they did not, it was those with magic that would suffer.

 

Merlin. Mordred. Everyone.

 

Merlin. 

 

Perhaps if Merlin was here, he could have saved her. A wave of bitterness and resentment flowed through him before fading away completely. It was not Merlin's responsibility to keep Arthur's prisoners safe.

 

A knock sounded on the door, and Arthur turned towards it. “Enter.”

 

Gaius did so, carrying his supply of medicine. “Sire? You called for me?”

 

“Yes.” Arthur walked towards the older man. “But I’m not entirely sure if you’ll be able to help.”

 

“Are you injured?” Gaius asked, looking over the king.

 

“Not me, no.” Arthur supplied, walking over to the antechambers attached to his room. It was there mostly for servants if they needed to spend the night. Merlin had only used it once when Arthur had fallen badly ill- back when he was still a prince. Arthur hadn’t even known about it until afterwards, too lost in fever to really notice. Apparently the boy had been unwilling to leave. They never spoke of it. 

 

Arthur opened the door, revealing the white dragon inside, curled up on a pile of blankets and pillows. 

 

“A dragon…” Gaius seemed more in awe than afraid, which he supposed made sense. Gaius had always been intrigued by magical creatures. “Is this not the dragon Merlin has been searching for?”

 

“It is.” Arthur confirmed. “She showed up yesterday, but she’s in pain. I believe she’s been tortured. By the Sarrum, certainly, but also perhaps more recently.”

 

“Indeed.” Gaius said solemnly, making his way towards Aithusa. “She is badly deformed as well. Her wings, especially so. And she’s severely underweight.”

 

“Is there anything you can do for her?” Arthur leaned against the door frame.

 

Gaius sighed. “For her deformed state? No. Getting enough food in her will help to solve the malnourishment, of course. As for the pain, I can try to give her some pain relief, but I can’t guarantee it will be strong enough, and I’m hesitant to give her a large dose. It has worked with other animals, but it’s never been tested on a dragon before.”

 

“It could hurt her?”

 

“It’s possible.” Gaius confirmed. “It certainly wouldn’t kill her, but without having tested it prior, I can’t guarantee it wouldn’t cause her any harm.”

 

“Skip the draught.” Arthur said reluctantly. “She’s already weak. I won’t risk it. How long before she’ll be able to walk?”

 

“It’s impossible to tell without a full physical.” Gaius placed a hand on one of the creature’s legs. “I imagine she’ll be able to move around within a day or two, as long as she’s getting some food in her.”

 

“What about for a long distance?”

 

“It could be weeks.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “No. There must be something.”

 

“Sire?” Gaius turned towards the king. “Might I ask why?”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur answered. “Something’s wrong. He’s in trouble, and only Aithusa knows where he is. She needs to lead us to him.”

 

“Are you certain?” Gaius asked, concern growing.

 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Arthur walked forward, kneeling down next to the dragon. “She’s barely able to move, yet she made the trip all the way to Camelot. The only reason explanation can think of for such a thing would be if Merlin ordered her to, which means he found her and freed her. But if he sent her away without him, it means there was trouble. Whoever was holding Aithusa has Merlin. I’m certain of it.”

 

Gaius nodded slowly. “Then he certainly  _ is  _ in trouble.”

 

“Could Mordred heal her? With magic?”

 

“No, sire.” Gaius shook his head. “The magic of dragons is far beyond the magic of humans. I doubt even Merlin could hope to heal a magical creature of this power.” 

 

Arthur sighed, placing a hand on the dragon’s head. She pressed into it, closing her eyes. “I don’t want her to hurt herself further, but everyday we wait is another day Merlin is their hands. And after seeing what they did to Aithusa, I can only wonder what they would do to him.”

 

“What about a cart, sire?” Gaius offered. “The dragon would still be able to point you in the right direction while also resting.”

 

Arthur thought on it for a moment. “A cart would slow us down.”

 

“It’s better than waiting weeks for her to be recovered enough to make the journey without it.”

 

Depending on how far away Merlin was, the trip could take days, even without the cart. The cart could add another week, but it would still be faster than if they waited. And if Merlin was in a bad state, the cart could be… needed. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about. 

 

“Alright.” Arthur conceded. “We leave at first light.”

 

Getting Aithusa to the cart would be difficult in itself. In the end, when morning came, Aithusa dragged herself out of the nest of blankets and walked to the cart alongside Arthur. If there was any doubt that Aithusa could understand human speech, then it was gone. She clearly understood the conversation yesterday with Gaius and was well aware of what was happening. 

 

More than one servant had cried out in shock upon seeing the dragon, forcing Arthur to take a slightly longer, but more out of the way route to the courtyard. The knights were already gathered, having been told that Merlin was in trouble and not much else. They were as surprised by the dragon as the rest.

 

“Sire?” Leon spoke up, watching the dragon warily. 

 

“She’s going to help us find Merlin.” Arthur answered, turning to help the dragon into the cart. “She knows where he is. We can’t find him without her.”

 

“It’s a dragon.” Gwaine said shortly. “Why would it help us?”

 

“Dragon’s are intelligent creatures.” Mordred added softly. “They have loyalties.”

 

“Loyalties to Morgana, perhaps.” Gwaine retorted.

 

“Leave her be.” It was Guinevere who spoke, approaching the group and making her way to Aithusa. Leon looked ready to interfere, not wanting the Queen to get so close to the beast. Guinevere merely stroked the side of the creature’s face in an affectionate manner. “Aithusa is going to help you because she wants Merlin found just as much as you do.” She said matter of factly. 

 

“Guinevere.” Arthur said after a moment, getting his wife’s attention. “I’m sorry to leave during such an important time. With the laws being repealed-”

 

“This is more important.” Guinevere said, not a hint of annoyance in her eyes. “I’ll take care of the council. They can wait. Merlin cannot.”

 

“Thank you.” Arthur pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

“I know you will.” She smiled softly. “Bring him home.”

 

“I will.” 

 

Despite the knights clear distrust of Aithusa, no one made any further comments on the matter. If she was the key to finding Merlin, then who were they to argue? 

 

Once they left the courtyard, Arthur turned his horse around until he was behind the cart being pulled by Elyan and Mordred’s horses. 

 

“Alright, Aithusa.” Arthur began. “If we head North, we’re heading towards Mercia. East is Essitir. South is going to be Nemeth- sort of. West is Caerleon and Gawant. Which way are we headed? North, East, South, West-”

 

Aithusa let out whine as he said the last word. 

 

“West it is.” The knights, even Mordred, looked unsure, but said nothing. The group turned towards the west, and began their trip.

 

Caerleon and Camelot had been at peace since their treaty all those years ago. There would be no reason for Annis to take Merlin captive, or a dragon for that matter. And Gawant? Lord Godwin had been an ally of Camelot since his father’s time. Even after the wedding with Elena fell through, there had never been any animosity between the two kingdoms. True, Godwin would likely not recognize Merlin from his visit here, but there was still no logical reason for why he would capture Merlin or Aithusa. 

 

And Merlin was strong. To capture him wouldn’t have been easy, and Arthur wasn’t sure if Godwin, or Annis for that matter, was capable of holding him. It couldn’t be them. The only other kingdom in the west before hitting the coast was… Amata. 

 

No. Surely not. No. 

 

Merlin in the hands of that man.

 

“Aithusa…” Arthur said after a moment. “Is Merlin in Amata?”

 

The knights turned towards them, their eyes widening in shock and horror. It only grew when Aithusa let out a short sound of confirmation. The Sarrum. He had captured Morgana and Aithusa once before. If anyone would be able to hold Merlin, it would be him.

 

And if he had recaptured Aithusa after Morgana’s death, then Merlin would not have hesitated to rescue her, no matter the danger it might have put him in. And if he had been caught, he would have ordered Aithusa to leave him, to get to safety, to go to Arthur…

 

He should have killed the man when he had the chance.

 

And now he had his hands on Merlin. He hadn’t killed Morgana. Perhaps he wouldn’t have killed Merlin either. Aithusa at least seemed to believe he was alive. But in what state? The Sarrum would have tortured him. There was no doubt of that. Just like he had tortured Aithusa. 

 

And the Sarrum already had reason to hate Merlin. He had stopped the assassination attempt. Merlin would have used magic to try to escape, which means the Sarrum would know of that as well. He had never shown any mercy to those with magic before. There was no reason to believe he would now. 

 

“We must hurry then.” Arthur said quietly, just loud enough for the knights to hear. “There is no time to waste.”

 

“Arthur…” It was Elyan who spoke. “If Merlin is in Amata…”

 

“Then he needs our help.” Gwaine said, looking beyond angry at this point. Arthur could hardly blame him. He’d probably be angry too if he could get past his overwhelming fear for a moment. 

 

Mordred looked mildly nauseous. He had magic, too. Even if Merlin wasn’t in danger, the idea of going to Amata must have been terrifying for the druid. Camelot had been known for its hatred of magic, but it was nothing compared to Amata. Camelot killed sorcerers. Amata made them wish they were dead. Even his father had feared them. It was only kingdom he was not willing to trifle with. 

 

And Aithusa was willing to go back to save Merlin. She had attacked Merlin in the past, had she not? They had not been on good terms, much to Merlin’s distress. Perhaps that was why she was willing to help. She had betrayed Merlin by helping Morgana, and despite that, he had risked himself to save her. He had condemned himself to save her from suffering any longer. 

 

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to resent the creature for that. If she hadn’t been captured, Merlin would have never had to rescue her. But seeing her in such pain, still willing to go back to save him, it was impossible to blame her. 

 

“Mordred.” Arthur finally said after a moment. “If you wish to stay behind, no one would blame you.”

 

Mordred hesitated, as if truly considering the offer. It only went to show how terrifying Sarrum was that he did so. “No, sire. I would not abandon Merlin.”

 

“Very well.” Arthur said, turning to Leon. “Ride ahead. Find out if Annis will grant us permission to cross through her lands.”

 

Leon nodded, and rode out ahead of the group. They could ride along the border between Caerleon and Gawant with little issue, they were allies after all, but riding straight through would be different. Caerleon was directly in between Camelot and Amata. Riding through it could cut days off of their journey, as well as keep them away from bandits that would only slow them down. 

 

They didn’t have that kind of time to waste. Merlin needed them.

 

Leon backtracked enough to find them a day later. Annis had indeed granted them permission to pass through, as well as an invitation for them to rest at the castle. Leon had, wisely, not mentioned the dragon, so Arthur was unsure of how she would react. Refusing the invitation could cause offense, however, and that was the last thing he wanted at the moment. 

 

Queen Annis was there to greet them when they arrived days later. She seemed more curious than anything about the cart. That would certainly change soon enough.

 

“Your highness.” Arthur jumped down from his horse. “Thank you for allowing us to cross through your lands.”

 

“Your man spoke of a rescue mission?” Annis asked, clearly intrigued.

 

“Yes.” Arthur nodded. “One of my men has been captured by the Sarrum. It is my wish to retrieve him.”

 

Annis only nodded, eyeing the cart. After a moment, she finally noticed the dragon nested inside. 

 

“She’s harmless, I can assure you.” Arthur attempted.

 

“I recognize this creature.” Annis didn’t step closer, eyeing her from afar. “It has been seen alongside Morgana.”

 

“Morgana is dead.”

 

“So I’ve heard.” 

 

“She is leading me to my missing man.” Arthur explained. “Only she knows where he is being held.”

 

“I see.” Annis said slowly. “And you can guarantee that this creature will cause my people no harm?”

 

“Yes.” Arthur said firmly. “I give you my word. She is injured, at any rate. She can barely move, much less cause any kind of destruction.” He stepped forward to prove his point, stroking the dragon’s back. “She won’t cause any trouble.”

 

The image of King Arthur of Camelot petting a dragon must have been a strange one. Even his own knights seemed a little surprised by it. 

 

“Very well.” Annis said at last. “Come. We have a feast prepared for your visit.”

 

Bringing the dragon inside was not an option. Not only would Annis certainly not allow it, but it would have been painful for Aithusa to move inside. Arthur had Elyan back the cart up until it was out of the way before draping some of the blankets on top of her. It was not a cool season, so even at night, it would not grow too cold. With the blankets, she would be warm.

 

“You must stay here for now. I’ll come for you in the morning.” Aithusa made a soft noise, and Arthur turned to follow Annis inside.   

 

The feast laid out for them was far from extravagant, but considering the late notice, Arthur was only grateful there was one at all. Despite their concern for Merlin, the men managed to eat their fill. All except for Mordred. He still ate, likely not wanting to insult their hosts, but not as much as the others. Even if he hadn’t had magic, being a druid alone would have been enough to strike fear into his heart.

 

“Where is that fool of yours?” Annis asked conversationally. “I wouldn’t have expected him to let you out of his sight.”

 

“Merlin is…” Arthur began, pausing. The knights who heard Annis’s question had stiffened. If she noticed, she said nothing. “Merlin is the man we are hoping to recover.”

 

Annis furrowed her eyebrows slightly. “What interest would Sarrum have with the boy?”

 

“Merlin is a sorcerer.” Arthur said after a moment. “He was the one who killed Morgana once and for all. He left Camelot in search of the white dragon. It was then he was captured.”

 

Annis looked mildly surprised, but it faded quickly. “There was always something about him.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Sure, the man was… odd at times, but magical? That would have been his last guess.

 

“I was always curious as to how he managed to do that juggling trick of his.” The Queen looked towards the table of food. “Especially considering there were no eggs at the feast that night.”

 

Arthur opened his mouth, and kept it there for a moment. “He… He used magic…” He rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “He used magic in front of not only me and my knights, but the court of Caerleon as well… to juggle.”

 

“He may be a sorcerer.” Annis took a sip of her wine. “But that doesn’t mean he isn't still a fool.”

 

“Indeed.” Arthur said slowly. Or perhaps he was the fool, to have not noticed something so clearly in front of him. 

 

“If your servant is in the hands of the Sarrum, I fear it may be too late.” She said after a moment of silence.

 

“I know.” Arthur said, barely over a whisper. And he did know. It wasn’t something he had really acknowledged, but it was there at the edge of his thoughts. “But he has been a loyal servant, beyond the line of duty. He has saved me and my kingdom more times than I could hope to count. I have to try.” He paused. “He deserves at least that.”

 

“Then I wish you luck.” Annis said in response. “In finding your fool.”

 

Others might have found offense in that, but the way she said it… fool was not an insult. It was who he was. He was Arthur’s fool. Arthur’s idiot. Because no matter what, no matter how powerful he became, he’d always be an idiot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the commenters that said they liked Annabelle...
> 
> I'm sorry :)


	24. The Darkest Hour

Arthur woke early the next morning and headed straight to the lower town in search of a butcher. He found one with ease, purchasing a substantial amount of product, and headed towards where he had left Aithusa the night before. She was still asleep when he arrived, but woke easily enough, scarfing down the food he provided. 

 

Arthur stroked the top of her head. “We’ll be leaving within the hour. Not much longer now.” 

 

Aithusa made a soft noise, moving into a standing position. 

 

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, not expecting an answer. “You should rest.”

 

She made another noise, a bit louder this time, and walked towards the front of the cart as if it leave it.

 

“Hold on.” Arthur put up his hands. “You can’t get out here. Just... let me pull the cart out of the city, then you can get out. Alright?”

 

Aithusa waited a moment before lying back down onto the blankets. Arthur jumped onto one of the horses, and pulled the cart into the forest, out of the line of sight of the civilians. He didn’t think they’d take to kindly to a dragon walking around their city.

 

Once they stopped, Aithusa gingerly stepped out of the cart, walking around the small clearing. Even if she was injured, staying in one place for such a long time couldn’t have been comfortable. And with days more of travel ahead of them, it was probably best that she stretched her legs. 

 

She had clearly gained some strength back since her arrival in Camelot. She couldn’t even walk before, and now she was doing so, though without must gusto. She was still thin, but her ribs were not as pronounced as they once were. It would take time for her to recover from starvation completely. 

 

“It wasn’t that long ago that I thought of you as a monster.” Arthur said quietly sitting himself down on the edge of the cart, and Aithusa turned her head towards him. “It seems like I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”

 

Aithusa walked towards him, placing her head in his lap. 

 

“You remind me of Merlin a bit. Far too forgiving for his own good.” Arthur placed his hands on either side of her face. “I’m sorry for what my father did to your kind. I’m sorry that I would have continued that work had I not realized the truth. I’m glad you survived our wrath.” 

 

If the dragon held any animosity towards him, she didn’t show it. She leaned into his touch, letting out a soft, pleased noise. 

 

“I definitely prefer you to that other dragon.” Arthur looked towards the sky, as if the mad beast would come down on them at the mention of him. “He was a bit… condescending? I’m not sure if that’s the best word for it. Have you met him?”

 

Aithusa made a positive noise, and Arthur nodded.

 

“Quite a bit of work, that one is.”

 

“Sire?” Arthur turned towards the voice. It was Leon, approaching from the trees. “We’ve been searching for you. We’re ready to depart.”

 

“Yes. Thank you.” Arthur nodded, looking back towards Aithusa. “Alright. Let’s get back in that cart.” 

 

Aithusa gave a displeased grunt but allowed Arthur to help her into the cart. They’d cross the border into Amata within two days. Once they did so, they would need Aithusa for directions once more. 

 

It was unlikely that the Sarrum would be holding Merlin in the castle. Merlin would never have been able to infiltrate it to get Aithusa out in the first place, so she must have been kept at an alternate location. And wherever that was, Merlin was sure to be as well. 

 

This was good news for them in any case. Getting Merlin out of the castle would have been impossible, not without an army, and starting a war was not in the plan. This was a stealth mission, if at all possible. Get Merlin and get out before anyone knew they were even there. Arthur would deal with any possible repercussions later. 

 

When night came, they stopped to make camp. They had managed to catch a rabbit for their stew. For a while, it seemed as if they weren’t going to find anything for Aithusa, but at the last minute, a deer had come into view. Arthur briefly considered cooking the deer alongside the rest of the food, but ended up just skinning it. Aithusa seemed to have no preference between raw and cooked food, so there was no point in putting in the extra work. 

 

Unlike the previous nights, Aithusa jumped down from the cart to join them around the fire. The knights seemed unsure at first, but Aithusa ignored them, settling herself down next to Arthur. It was clear to everyone that she had grown quite attached to him. It was a little strange, considering that not that long ago she had been trying to kill him. To be fair though, he would have tried to kill her as well. It didn’t mean they both didn’t have their regrets. 

 

Watching her, she seemed like such a peaceful creature. Was this what his father had hunted down and slaughtered until only two remained? If his father had had any idea that she lived, he would have hunted her down, too. 

 

There could have been three, should Arthur have rescued the egg from that tower instead of letting it be destroyed. 

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. Why hadn’t Merlin rescued the egg? He was a dragonlord. Shouldn’t he have wanted…

 

“That… idiot…” Arthur said slowly, the pieces finally fitting together.

 

“Hm?” Gwaine looked up from his dinner, as did the other knights.

 

“The dragon egg. The one Merlin said had been destroyed. It wasn’t destroyed.” Arthur looked down to Aithusa. “He hatched it.” He shook his head. “He must have taken it from the tower before it collapsed. He took the egg, and he hatched it.”

 

“Damn.” Gwaine said after a long pause. “He didn’t let go of his bag the entire night. I remember thinking it was a bit odd… I suppose that was why.”

 

“He had the egg…” The man had the egg in his bag. He brought it back to Camelot with him. That  _ idiot _ . What if he had been caught? Did he have any idea how bad that would have looked if he was caught? 

 

Elyan let out a short laugh. “It sounds like something Merlin would do, to be honest.”

 

Percival nodded. “He doesn’t even like watching us hunt. Even if he wasn’t a dragonlord, I can see him wanting to protect an unborn dragon.”

 

It explained why he had been so desperate to find her. He had  _ hatched _ her. It was no wonder he was so concerned about her wellbeing- enough to delve into the heart of Amata to rescue her. 

 

Aithusa didn’t go back into the cart that night. Instead, as Arthur laid down to sleep, she pressed herself against the warmth of his body, resting her head on his chest. 

 

As Arthur had suspected, Aithusa led them away from where he knew the castle to be located. In truth, he didn’t know the layout of Amata very well. He had never been there before, and the kingdom had always been very secretive.  

 

They managed to reach what looked like a stronghold of some sorts within a few days. They couldn’t continue any further with the cart, not without losing their stealth. Arthur considered hiding the cart somewhere, Aithusa inside, but the dragon hopped out instead, seemingly insistent on joining them.

 

She was able to walk without much issue now, so she wouldn’t be slowing them down. And having a dragon as backup could be useful, so Arthur reluctantly allowed Aithusa to join them. He could only hope that Merlin wouldn’t kill him for bringing her back into danger. 

 

They infiltrated the stronghold with little issue. There were far less soldiers than he would have expected, what with Merlin being held as their prize. Arthur had expected this part to be far more difficult, but he was too relieved to question it much. 

 

Aithusa led them through the building, the knights taking care of any soldiers that happened upon them, until they reached a gated hole. An oubliette. 

 

It was horrifying to picture Aithusa inside, becoming deformed as she grew. But more horrifying was the hole’s emptiness. There was no Merlin. He wasn’t here.

 

Aithusa let out a soft whine, obviously coming to the same conclusion. And if Merlin wasn’t here, then he had to be in the castle. That would complicate things and make a rescue far more difficult. They searched the rest of the stronghold to make sure, but there was no sign of Merlin anywhere. He wasn’t there.

 

“Dammit!” Arthur hit the wall outside the stronghold, bloodying his own fist. This could extend Merlin’s captivity by  _ weeks _ . Months, even. Arthur wasn’t sure the man would last that long.

 

Without warning, there were more men upon them. Far more than there ever were in the stronghold to begin with. Where had they come from? It was far too large a group to be a regular patrol. 

 

Then Arthur spotted the cage the Amata soldiers had brought with them. They had been expecting them. It was a trap. The whole thing was a trap. 

 

The knights drew their swords, but there was no point. They were surrounded and outnumbered. Minutes later, they were unarmed and defenseless.

 

Several soldiers approached the obviously terrified Aithusa, long spears in their hands. They wanted her in the cage, but she wasn’t willing to go without a fight. She knew what would come next, and she wanted no part of it. One of the soldiers pierced Aithusa’s side with a spear, making her cry out. 

 

“Leave her be!” Arthur tried, struggling against the hands that held him still. The Amata soldiers behind him placed their sword against his neck to quiet him. 

 

Aithusa cried out once more upon seeing this, trying to make her way towards the king.

 

“Get in, creature.” The soldier holding the sword said, clearly recognizing the origin of her distress. “Or I slit his throat.”

 

Arthur wanted to protest that, no, he wouldn’t, but then he realized that, yes, he would. Aithusa seemed to go limp at the threat, much to Arthur’s displeasure, and made her way into the cage with far less resistance, letting out a pathetic mewl as the door locked shut behind her. 

 

Arthur and the knights had their hands tied in front of them before being pulled forward by several horses- each knight with a separate horse. There were far too many of them to plan any kind of escape, and even if they could manage it, there would be no way to free Aithusa, and Arthur was reluctant to leave her behind. 

 

“Where are you taking us?” Arthur demanded, but they didn’t respond. They didn’t need to. He knew where they were taking them. Where else but to the Sarrum? To the castle. 

 

Once they arrived at the castle, Aithusa’s cage was wheeled off in a different direction from the rest of the group. She let out a distressed cry, and Arthur tried to struggle against the soldiers, but it was no use, and soon she was out of sight completely. 

 

The soldiers dragged them to the throne room, forcing them to their knees in front of the king himself. Sarrum.

 

“Pendragons can be so very predictable. Even your father.” Sarrum leaned back in his throne. “I knew you’d come for your precious warlock. It was only a matter of time before the dragon led you here.”

 

“Was it not as I told you, Lord Sarrum?” Arthur’s eyes widened as Lord Merek stepped into view, next to Sarrum’s throne. “Camelot welcomes those with magic now. Even dragons.”

 

“Merek... “ Arthur said, shock evident in his voice. 

 

“What?” Merek raised an incredulous eyebrow. “You think I would remain loyal to Camelot after you banished me from it? It is clear that Camelot has become blinded in regard to magic, so I went to Amata, and I told Lord Sarrum of your little warlock. I told him of his mission- to find the white dragon.”

 

“Merek was right to do so.” Sarrum said. “When I left Camelot all those months ago, I had no idea just how lost it would become. This warlock needed to be captured. Fortunately, I already had the prize he was seeking. It was a simple matter to use the dragon to lure him into a trap. Losing the creature was not part of the plan, but it clearly worked out for the best, as now I have you as well.”

 

“What have you done with Merlin?” Arthur was nearly shaking in fury. He should have killed Merek. He should have killed them both while he still had the chance. 

 

“Bring him.” Sarrum said to one of the soldiers before turning back to Arthur. “It will do you good to see this.”

 

“I realize I was wrong now.” Merek said. “You aren’t enchanted. You never were. You got too close to the poison of magic, and it infected you.” For moment, Merek looked genuinely regretful. “There is no saving you now. The only hope for Camelot is to have your rule end. Only then can it regain its former glory.”

 

“I saw the truth, Merek. That is all.”

 

“That’s what you believe.” Merek admitted. “I know you truly believe that. But you are wrong. Uther’s son is gone. Magic’s puppet is all that remains now.”

 

The doors opened behind them, and Arthur’s stomach dropped as he turned to look. Merlin didn’t seem to have noticed them, unable to hold his head up. He was pale, and thinner than Arthur remembered him being. The man grunted as he was forced to his knees next to Sarrum’s throne. A thick, metal collar circled his neck- runes carved into the side. 

 

“Merlin…”

 

“You spoke of another sorcerer in Arthur’s court.” Sarrum said to Merek. “A druid.”

 

Merek nodded, pointing towards Mordred. “That one.”

 

“Bind him.”

 

The boy paled instantly, and if Arthur looked close enough, he thought he might have been trembling ever so slightly. Another soldier approached Mordred, holding a collar that looked identical to the one around Merlin’s neck.

 

“Leave him.” Arthur struggled against the soldiers forcing him to his knees. “Leave him!” 

 

The soldiers ignored his order, but Mordred fought back. Clearly they knew of his magic, so Mordred seemed to have little issue using it against them. Despite that, he was still not as strong as Merlin, and he was hopelessly outnumbered.

 

The soldier snapped the metal collar around his neck, and the gold in his eyes faded away. It blocked magic. That had to be what the collar did. It was the only explanation for how they could have held Merlin. They took his magic away. 

 

Arthur looked back towards Merlin, who had obviously heard him speak, as the man was staring at him in wide eyed horror. 

 

Sarrum reached down, grabbing a fist full of Merlin’s hair, and forced his head up into a painful angle. “You see, Arthur. They aren’t so hard to control. Not once you muzzle them.”

 

Arthur curled his fists, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “Where’s Aithusa?”

 

If possible, Merlin looked even more distressed by that. He shouldn’t have let her come. He shouldn’t have brought her back into danger. He should have made her stay behind.

 

“Ah, yes. My dragon.” Sarrum smiled sickly. “My men tell me you’ve become quite attached to the creature. What would you father say about that?”

 

“Is war what you want, Sarrum?” Arthur forced out. “Because that’s exactly what you’re going to get if you keep this up.”

 

“Camelot has let the poison that is magic back within its walls. Soon, the darkness will seep in until nothing is left. If I must burn Camelot to the ground to rid it of this evil, then that is exactly what I will do.”

 

“You’re sick.” It was Elyan who spoke up this time. “You’re just sick.”

 

“Take the warlock back to his cell.” Sarrum said, ignoring the knight. “And take the druid with him.”

 

“Don’t!” Arthur ordered, but was, of course, ignored.

 

“And why don’t you take our boy king to his precious dragon- since he’s so fond of it.”

 

The soldiers holding his arms hauled him to his feet and dragged him out of the room. Arthur tried to look back towards his knights, towards Merlin, towards Mordred, towards anyone. He could only wonder as to what the Sarrum would do with them. 

 

They walked through the halls for a few minutes longer before they reached a locked, metal door. The door was opened, and Arthur was thrown in, landing hard on the stone floor. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving him in pitch black darkness. 

 

Arthur felt around. The room couldn't  have been more than five feet across, so it was easy to find the dragon chained inside. Aithusa cried out, pressing herself against the familiar form. 

 

“Shh.” Arthur stroked her head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. She pressed her head again against his chest, letting out a low whine. “Shh, it’s alright.” It wasn’t alright. They both knew it wasn’t. 

 

Aithusa curled around him, wrapping her tail around his waist, and laying her head in his lap. Arthur wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Every few minutes, Aithusa would let out an increasingly pathetic cry of pure terror. Arthur would continue to stroke the back of her neck, trying to calm her, but knowing he couldn’t succeed. It must have been hours later when Arthur finally fell asleep, leaning, not against a stone wall, but against a shaking, white dragon. 

 

End of Arc II: The White Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	25. To Salvage What Was Lost

Arc III: Peace for Our Time

 

The passing of time was difficult to tell without a window to the outside world. In pitch black, there was no difference between night and day. Perhaps if food came on a more consistent schedule, he would have been able to keep track, but they received it in varying intervals, and never daily. Water was no different. They were still alive, so they must have been receiving enough one way or another, but the thirst never left. 

 

Arthur had no idea how long it had been since he had been locked up in the darkness with only a dragon for company. If it weren’t for Aithusa, he would have gone mad a long time ago. She wasn’t much for conversation, but she would listen. She always listened. Perhaps this was how Morgana had felt, locked away in that pit for two years.  _ Two years.  _ He couldn’t imagine. He would have gone insane in that time, dragon or not. Maybe that was exactly what happened to her. Maybe it would happen to him.

 

The door to the cell opened without warning, and light invaded the small space. Arthur raised his arm over his eyes, blocking out the painful rays. You’d think that light would be a blessing after so long, but it only hurt. 

 

Someone was speaking- he knew that- but he couldn’t focus on the words. Why had they opened the door? They had never opened the door before. There was a small slit in the bottom they would open to push food through, and that was it. They even locked the slit shut when they were done so Arthur couldn’t push it open to let some light in. He had tried, more than once, with no avail. 

 

A hand touched his arm, and he batted it away, his eyes still squeezed shut. He wrapped an arm tight around Aithusa, who had begun to moan.

 

“No, leave her… leave her be.” Arthur tried, but his throat was so parched that the words had little power behind them. A hand reached for him again, but he pushed it away. “Leave her!”

 

There was nothing for several minutes. No voices. No touching. Then something was pressed to his lips. A cup. He was too thirsty to care why- too thirsty to notice the mildly odd taste as the water went down his throat. He drank it all without complaint, wishing for more when it was emptied. He only had a moment to hope they had some for Aithusa too before unconsciousness claimed him. 

 

When he next awoke, it was immediately apparent that something was different. The darkness was still there. The darkness was always there. But it was different.

 

Aithusa.

 

Arthur sat up, feeling around. Aithusa. Where was Aithusa? The stone walls were gone too, but that didn’t matter, because  _ where was Aithusa? _

 

“Arthur!” It was a familiar voice. A good voice. “It’s alright. You’re fine. You’re safe.” 

 

Hands pressed against his skin, and Arthur pushed them away without thought before he finally recognized the gentle touch. “Guinevere?”

 

The hands returned more hesitantly this time, and he allowed them. “Yes. It’s me. I’m here.” There was a definite shake in her voice. 

 

“Where’s Aithusa?” Arthur asked, some of the panic returning.

 

“She’s right here.” Guinevere took his hand and slowly pulled it forward. He let out a breath of relief as he touched the smooth scales. From her breathing, he guessed she was probably asleep. There was no need to wake her up.

 

“Why can’t I see?” 

 

“Oh!” Arthur could hear Guinevere walking away. “Let me blow out the candles first.” She walked back towards him, and pulled at what Arthur now noticed was a blindfold wrapped around his eyes. “Gaius said that it might take you awhile to readjust to the light, so we should go slow.”

 

Arthur squinted, but it wasn’t too bad. The only light in the room came from underneath the door and from around the closed blinds. It was more than he was used to, but he could still look around. He was home. He was in his chambers in Camelot. He was sitting on his bed. Aithusa was lying at the foot of the bed, like she had been when they first met.

 

“Merlin, Mordred, the knights…”

 

“The knights are fine.” Guinevere said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “They were locked up but otherwise left alone. Merlin and Mordred… they’ll recover. They woke up before you did, actually.”

 

“That’s… good.” Arthur coughed, and Guinevere placed a cup of water in his hands that he accepted gratefully. “What happened?”

 

The door to the room opened, blinding Arthur momentarily. Once it shut, he could see Gaius, looking mildly surprised to see him awake. “Sire. How are you feeling?” He asked as he approached the bed.

 

“Just a bit of a headache.” Arthur supplied, and Gaius nodded.

 

“That’s probably just from the light. It will pass.”

 

“Merlin and Mordred. How are they?” Arthur asked, noticing the way Gaius seemed to close off at the mention.

 

“They will be fine, sire.” Gaius assured him. “They are healing well.”

 

“What was done to them?”

 

“I’m not sure it would be best to-”

 

“ _ Gaius _ .” Arthur pressed more firmly. “I want to know. I need to know.”

 

Gaius said nothing for a long moment. “In truth, it’s not as bad as it could have been. They’ll both survive without any serious lasting effects.” He sighed when it was clear Arthur was not satisfied with the answer. “They were both flogged- more than once. Across their back and the back of their legs. There are burns across their hands and the rest of their body, most likely done with a hot metal rod of some kind. It’s clear they were beaten a number of times. Overall malnutrition and dehydration, but that is fixed easily enough. About what you would expect, sire, from a prisoner of war.”

 

“They weren’t prisoners of war.” Arthur argued. 

 

“No. They were not.” Gaius agreed. 

 

“And you left them alone?” Arthur asked incredulously. He was fine. He hadn’t been hurt. He didn’t need Gaius. They needed him far more.

 

“The knights have been taking turns sitting with Mordred. Elyan is with him at the moment.” Gaius said calmly, not taking any offense at the accusation. “And Mithian has been watching over Merlin since he was rescued.”

 

“Mithian?” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t understand. How did Mithian get involved in this?”

 

Gaius glanced towards Guinevere, who took hold of his hand. “Arthur, you passed through Annis’s land, right?” Arthur nodded. “Well, you told her you were going to Amata. When a few weeks passed by and you still hadn’t come back through, she sent word to us that you had likely been captured.”

 

It was almost as if she had expected them to fail. If he wasn’t so grateful, he might have been offended. 

 

“I knew that the Sarrum taking you captive was an act of war, but I hesitated. Even your father never dared to attack them.” Guinevere squeezed his hand. “Not that I would have left you there. I would never had abandoned you. I just didn't know what to do. I was lost...”

 

“I would have been as well.” Arthur assured her.

 

Guinevere smiled slightly. “I reached out to our allies and explained the situation. Once they found out you had been captured by the Sarrum… well, he had a reputation, of course. Everyone came together, Arthur. Everyone. Nemeth. Caerleon. Gawant. Even  _ Odin _ . No one was willing to let you stay in his hands.

 

“You should have seen it, Arthur.” She cupped his cheek with her free hand. “When Mordred talked about you uniting the land of Albion, I don’t think this is what he had in mind, but that’s exactly what you did. They all came together to save you.”

 

Arthur didn’t know what to say for a long moment. All of Albion. Friends. Past enemies. They had come for him. “...Why?” He croaked, not meaning to speak out loud, but it was too late. 

 

“Because they believe in you.” Guinevere stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Because they can see in you what I do. They can see what you’ll do for this land, and they weren’t going to let you suffer.” She paused for a long moment. “And Mithian returned with us to Camelot.”

 

“Why?” Arthur repeated.

 

“Because I needed her.” Guinevere closed her eyes. “When I found out what had happened to you, I… I tried to be strong for Camelot, but then I saw you, and you were so thin, and...” She took in a sharp breath. “Mithian could see I wasn’t well. I can’t guarantee I would have been able to keep control of this kingdom if it weren’t for her help.”

 

“How long was I gone?” Arthur said after a moment.

 

“You left to find Merlin about three months ago.” Guinevere answered. “You were found about a week and a half ago. You’ve been in and out of consciousness since then.”

 

“I’ve been asleep for over a week?”

 

“In a way.” She said quietly. “They had to drug you to get you out of the cell, and then you panicked a bit when you first woke up. You couldn’t see anything. You didn’t know where you were. Gaius thought it best to keep you unconscious until we arrived back in Camelot.”

 

Three months. He had been gone for three months. Arthur reached out towards her stomach. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but it was definitely there. 

 

Guinevere smiled more broadly, pressing his hand against her abdomen. “They’ve started kicking. I…” She smiled fell. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t…”

 

“Never.” Arthur pulled her closer to him, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Never.” He paused, taking in a long breath. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

 

“You’re home.” Guinevere said. “That’s all that matters now. You’re home.”

 

And he was. He was home.

 

He wasn’t confined to bed, so to say, even if Gaius wished he would rest a bit longer. He wasn’t injured, and though he was a bit wobbly on his feet, he could get around fine for the most part. He hadn’t walked much in the past two and a half months, so he could be forgiven for struggling a bit. The light was the biggest problem. He was fine in a dim room, but had to squint if it got any brighter.

 

But he needed to see them. His knights. Mordred. Merlin. He needed to see them in person, to see for himself to damage. In the few days that had passed since he awoke, the only person he had spoken to besides Gaius and Guinevere was Leon. Leon had seemed fine, so he could assume the rest of the knights were as well, Mordred excluded. They had been locked up, but that had been about it. They didn’t have magic, after all. The Sarrum would hold little hatred towards them. 

 

Aithusa came with him of course. She wasn’t likely to leave his side anytime soon, nor was Arthur inclined to let her. Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care if the servants and guards flinched away from the dragon as she walked down the hall. They would have to get used to her. She wasn’t going anywhere. 

 

Arthur opened the door to Gaius’s chambers, and spotted Mordred immediately. He was sitting on a cot in the main area of the room, eating what looked like soup. 

 

The boy looked up upon his entry. “Arthur.” Mordred smiled. He placed the bowl down on the table and made to stand. 

 

“No-” Arthur tried, holding out his hands. “You should sit.”

 

Mordred shook his head. He managed to stand with little difficulty, and Arthur could see bandages peeking out from under his sleeves. “I’m alright, sire. How are you?”

 

_ How are you? _ He wasn’t the one that was tortured. He didn’t have magic. He had been left alone. “I’m fine. How are you… feeling.”

 

“Better.” Mordred answered honestly. “Much better.”

 

Arthur looked away for a moment. “I should have never brought you with us. As soon as I learned we were going to Amata, I should have sent you away.”

 

“I’m not a coward.” Mordred said quietly.

 

“I know that.” Arthur rubbed at his eyes. “Gods, do I know that. You’ve more than proved that in the time I’ve known you.”

 

“You gave me the option to turn back, and I didn’t take it. The choice was mine. I never once blamed you for anything that happened. You must know that.” Mordred said sincerely. 

 

Arthur closed his eyes. “Perhaps you should.” He looked Mordred over once more. He looked fine, but he knew his clothes had to be hiding most of his injuries. There looked to be some bruising on his face, but it was almost entierly healed. “But you are truly well?”

 

Mordred nodded once again. “We’re still healing, but Gaius is an excellent physician.”

 

The door to Merlin’s room squeaked open. “I thought I heard your voice.” Merlin said, walking towards him. Without warning, the man wrapped his arms around him in a dangerously tight hug.

 

It was the first time Arthur had really seen Merlin in over four months. He wasn’t inclined to include when Merlin had been dragged in front of them with the Sarrum. That didn’t count. The collars that had been forced on both Merlin and Mordred were gone, leaving only a lightly bruised ring around their necks. They had their magic back, at the very least.

 

“I’m sorry.” Merlin whispered into his neck, and Arthur pulled back. “What happened to you, to Mordred… if I hadn’t been captured in the first place, none of that would have happened.”

 

“You were lured into a trap because of a traitor in my own court.” Arthur said. “None of that was your fault.”

 

“I shouldn’t have fallen for it.”

 

“You had no reason to believe there would be a trap.”

 

“Have you considered…” A new voice joined the group. Mithian was leaning in the doorway of Merlin’s room, watching them with a fond smile. “Blaming the Sarrum instead? He deserves at least that, don’t you think.”

 

“Mithian.” Arthur greeted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were here.”

 

“Well, she’s barely left Merlin’s room since she arrived.” Mordred mumbled, earning a glare from Merlin. 

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin glanced towards Mithian for a brief moment. “Mithian has been kind enough to keep my company while I was confined to bed.”

 

“And after.”

 

Merlin glared once again before turning to the dragon next to Arthur. He crouched down before Aithusa, stroking the top of her head. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Aithusa nuzzled into Merlin’s hand, any animosity between the two from before clearly forgotten. He looked her over with concerned eyes. “What did that man do to you? Your wings…” Merlin had a hand over the deformed bones. They were injuries from her first capture, but this was probably the first time Merlin had gotten a good look at them. “It’s a wonder you can even fly.”

 

“She flew into my chambers through the window.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “We still haven't gotten the glass replaced, so there’s a bit of a draft.” Explaining how the window broke in the first place would be… difficult, so they had been putting it off. Guinevere must have been too worried about Merlin, and then Arthur, to bother after they had left.

 

Merlin let out a choked laugh. “Well. I did tell her to go to you. I suppose she took it literally.” He looked up towards Arthur. “Thank you. For looking after her. I know having a dragon in your care wasn’t something you were expecting.”

 

“I understand why you wanted to protect her.” Aithusa butted her head against his leg. “She is not the monster I once believed her to be.”

 

“She would barely let us take you.” Mithian added. “When we found you. She attacked anyone that attempted to take you away from her. In the end, we had to let her come with you everywhere or face her wrath.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “You were in Amata?”

 

“I was once the battle was over.” Mithian confirmed. “There were a lot of prisoners that held me to dealt with. We had to find out which were actually guilty of a crime and which were just victims of the Sarrum’s cruelty.”

 

Arthur nodded. “I am grateful for your help. You and Nemeth.”

 

Mithian smiled. “We wouldn’t have left you there.”

 

No. They really wouldn’t have. He told her once before that Camelot was nothing without her allies, and that had never before been so clear. 


	26. A Taste of Reality

_ “No, don’t, please.” _

_ “Stop.” _

_ “Please.” _

_ “Leave him-” _

_ “No!” _

 

Merlin let out a gasp as his eyes snapped open. His shaking hands felt at the surface beneath him. Bed. He was in a bed. He was in  _ his  _ bed. He was in Camelot. In Gaius’s chambers. In his room. Mordred was in Camelot. Arthur and Aithusa were in Camelot. Everyone was safe. They were safe. He was safe. Sarrum was dead.  _ Sarrum was dead. _

 

Merlin took in a slow, shuddering breath. Then another. Slow, long breaths. He was safe. He was safe. He was safe. He wiped the cold sweat off of his forehead. This was becoming a pattern, and not a particularly comforting one. Him and Mordred. In a cell. For months. He wanted to just forget it all, but the night was not inclined to let him. 

 

He sat up in his bed and turned, placing his feet on the ground. It was still early enough in the morning that the sun had not yet risen. Merlin dressed quickly, and slowly opened the door to his room. It had been several weeks since their return to Camelot, so Mordred was back in his own chambers. This made it much easier to leave, as Gaius was a heavy sleeper and would not wake to the door opening as Mordred might have.

 

No one was awake this early in the morning, so the castle was deserted, other than some patrolling guards. They never stopped Merlin despite the odd hours. He wasn’t sure if it was because they simply recognized him and knew he wouldn’t cause any trouble, or if it was because they were frightened of him and his magic. He hoped it was the former, but it most likely was the latter. They had never had any trouble stopping him before. Or perhaps they feared the wrath of the knights should they try and bother him. 

 

He didn’t like to make a habit of sneaking out of the castle, it probably gave people the wrong idea, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. Sometimes the walls were just too confining, and he needed the openness of the forest. This was the only time of day he was really able to do it, too, as the knights were less than inclined to let him leave the castle by himself. If he had been worried about the knights distrusting him for his magic, the fear had been unfounded. Or perhaps they had distrusted him once but had moved past it. Maybe being tortured was enough to make them forgive him. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t hold it against them either way. Merlin was just glad they didn’t hate him now.

 

Movement in the corner of Merlin’s eye caught his attention. It was there, only for a moment, and then it was gone. Someone had just left through the front gate. Nothing about that was particularly concerning. People were allowed to leave, but no one did, not when it was still this dark. Eventually curiosity overcame him, and he made his way over to the gate. 

 

“Merlin?” The man said after turning when Merlin finally caught up to him. It was Arthur, holding a torch. He was wearing a cloak, but the hood was down, so he obviously wasn’t trying to hide.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.” Merlin said sheepishly. “What are you doing out here this early anyways?”

 

Arthur gestured with his head towards the white dragon just a few feet away. “She doesn’t like being cooped up all day, so I take her outside. It’s usually just easier to go before anyone else in the castle is awake.” He turned back towards Aithusa. “And she needs to learn to hunt anyways. She’s growing fast, and soon enough she won’t be able to fit inside the castle.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Merlin asked. It felt strange asking Arthur what he was going to do with Aithusa. As if she was his dragon. In a way, she was. “When she gets too big?”

 

“I’ve been thinking about that cave beneath the castle.” Arthur answered. “It was big enough to fit a full grown dragon. Plenty of room to fly around.”

 

Merlin paled. “You… you want to lock her up? Like your father did to Kilgharrah? No!” Merlin shook his head. “No. I won’t… I won’t let you do that.”

 

“Lock her up?” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said anything about locking her up. There’s an opening in the cave. She’d be able to come and go as she pleased. I’ve just been worried about the winter, and she’s used to living inside. She might not like living outside all the time.” He looked at Merlin. “You really think I’d just chain her up? Is that what you think of me.”

 

“No.” Merlin rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t.” And Arthur wouldn’t. He would never hurt Aithusa. Merlin had never expected them to grow so close, but it was true. When he sent Aithusa to Arthur all those months ago, he did so out of desperation. Because, even if Arthur did hate dragons, she’d be safer with him than with the Sarrum. Merlin had expected Arthur to barely tolerate her even being alive. He didn’t think Arthur would ever grow to love the dragon as much as he did. More than he did.

 

Part of him felt like he should be jealous. He had hatched Aithusa. He was her dragonlord, yet she so obviously preferred the king. But he lost any right to her long ago. He had hatched her, and then he had abandoned her to fend for herself. Yes, Kilgharrah was supposed to have looked after her, but he should have been more vigilant. He should have protected her. Instead, she had been captured and tortured.

 

And seeing them together, Arthur Pendragon and the white dragon, was everything he could have ever hoped for and more. Getting Arthur to trust in magic at all had been a dream of his for so long, that seeing him embrace it so fully, embracing creatures of magic, even, was beyond anything he could have dreamed of. 

 

Aithusa, as if reading Merlin’s thoughts, brushed her head against his hand. Even if Arthur was her favorite, she clearly held some affection for him. Any animosity between them seemed to be in the past. They had been enemies once, as painful as that had been, but that was over now. Now they could begin again.

 

Aithusa also seemed to have become quite fond of the Queen. Gwen had warmed up to her very quickly, from what Arthur had told him, and Aithusa had done the same. Perhaps it was because she was a woman- like Morgana. They would likely never know for sure.

 

The dragon wasn’t always the gentlest of creatures, so Arthur had expressed some concerns as Gwen had become more and more pregnant, but the fears were unfounded. Aithusa became incredibly gentle around the Queen, especially in more recent weeks, as her pregnancy became more obvious. It boded well for when the baby was born. The only thing that could possibly tear Arthur and Aithusa apart at this point would be if she hurt his child, but that seemed very unlikely to happen. 

 

“Do you think there are any more dragon eggs out there?” Arthur asked after a moment. “You hatched Aithusa. If we could find more eggs…”

 

Arthur Pendragon, son of the man who slaughtered the dragons, hoping to repopulate the world with them. 

 

“I don’t know.” Merlin admitted. “It’s not impossible, but I wouldn’t have the first idea of where to look.”

 

Arthur looked mildly disappointed by the answer, but not surprised. Maybe he was hoping Merlin secretly had a stash hidden somewhere. Or perhaps he thought dragonlords could sense dragon eggs and find them no matter where they were hidden. If only that were so. 

 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Arthur said, turning towards him. “I know my father did a lot of damage to the magical world during his reign, not just in Camelot, but in all of Albion. I know he’s hurt magical people, your people, in a way that can never be repaired, but I want to try. I want to try and fix what he’s done.”

 

“You  _ are  _ fixing it, Arthur.” Merlin said. “You’ve made magic legal in Camelot. You done more than I could have ever hoped for.”

 

“In Camelot, perhaps, but not in the rest of Albion.” Arthur shook his head. “It isn’t enough. I want to right his wrongs.” He paused for a moment. “I want to call for peace talks. I want all the rulers of Albion to come together to guarantee protections for magical people and creatures.”

 

“Like dragons?” Merlin could help but smile slightly at the inclusion of ‘creatures’. 

 

“Yes.” Arthur looked back towards Aithusa. “Like dragons.”

 

“It’s a good idea.” Merlin admitted. “I mean, you’re right. Just because Camelot has changed doesn’t mean the rest of Albion will, too. If you can convince the rest of them to allow magic back into their kingdoms, it could bring an end to the war on magic for good.”

 

“I may need your help.” Arthur added hesitantly. “You’re Emrys, after all. This won’t be an easy task. Having someone with your power at my side could help.”

 

“I’ll always be at your side.” Merlin said easily. “Nothing will ever change that.”

 

“I appreciate that.”

 

Merlin didn’t say anything for a long moment. “So, if you’re inviting all the monarchs to Camelot, does that include Nemeth?”

 

“Of course.” 

 

“So there’s really no point in Mithian leaving if she is only going to return in a few weeks.” 

 

Arthur looked up at him. “Indeed. Though I’m not entirely sure why she’s still here to begin with.”

 

“Do you want her to leave?”

 

“Mithian is always welcome in Camelot.” Arthur said, and it sounded as if he meant it. The bad blood over their failed marriage seemed to be forgotten entirely, and Arthur didn’t hold any grudges towards Mithian for her part in Morgana and Odin’s trap. “It’s not as if she causes any trouble. In truth, I keep forgetting she’s here, I see so little of her.” Arthur paused, as if thinking. “It’s just odd. You don’t think there are any problems in Nemeth, do you?”

 

Merlin shook his head. “Not that she’s told me.”

 

Mithian had become a good friend in the time she had been there. It was hard to believe he had ever held any contempt towards her. Of course, that contempt had only been because of her desire to marry Arthur, and nothing to do with her person in general. She had helped keep Gwen calm when her husband and her whole world seemed to be falling apart. She had helped Merlin to readjust back to normal life when he had returned from Amata all those weeks ago. She had been kind. 

 

He would be sad to see her go when the time came, but she couldn’t stay in Camelot forever, nor would she likely want to. 

 

“It’s starting to get light.” Arthur said, breaking Merlin out of his thoughts. “We better go back inside before the people start waking up.” 

 

Aithusa lowered her head in disappointment. It couldn’t be easy for her, hidden away all day, but it simply wasn’t safe for her to be wandering Camelot’s halls by herself. All it would take is one wrong move before a terrified farmer stabbed her with a pitchfork. 

 

“I’ll get you some pork from the butcher on the way.” Arthur said, and Aithusa’s head bolted up. He looked towards Merlin, a smile forming on his lips. “Pork’s her favorite.”

 

Merlin let out a short laugh as Aithusa nearly knocked Arthur off his feet making her way back into the courtyard. If pork was worth the seclusion to Aithusa, then who was he to disagree?

 

Merlin reentered the castle alongside them. It wasn’t until a week or so later that he found himself outside once again.

 

“You really didn't have to come with me, princess.” Merlin glanced backwards at the royal following him through the trees. “I  _ am  _ able to take care of myself.”

 

“The knights would disagree with that, if you hadn’t managed to sneak past them.” Mithian responded. “Besides. I’m not here for you. This is for me.”

 

“Yeah?” Merlin looked back towards his list. “In what way?”

 

“I’m curious. I’ve never dabbled in the healing arts before.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “So you want to watch me pick herbs?”

 

“I want to learn.” Merlin slowed his pace slightly to allow Mithian to catch up. He wasn’t used to having company on these trips. “Is that such a matter of contention?”

 

“No, not at all.” Merlin smiled, shaking his head. “If you’re so interested in learning…” He crouched down to pluck the plant from the ground. He stood, turning towards the princess. “ _ This _ is rue. It is distinguishable due to its yellow flowers and feathery leaves.” 

 

“And what does it do?” 

 

“It’s a purgative.”

 

“A purgative?” Mithian furrowed her eyebrows together.

 

“It makes you sick.”

 

“Ah. Lovely.” She looked the plant over closely. “For when someone is poisoned?”

 

“That’s one of the reasons.” Merlin confirmed, placing the herb into his basket. “It can also be used as a stimulant.”

 

“Very interesting.” 

 

Merlin laughed shortly. “Having fun yet?”

 

“Of course.” Mithian smiled in return. “There’s nothing I enjoy speaking of more than purgatives.”

 

“You’re the one who wanted to  _ learn _ .” Merlin said in a slightly mocking tone, though Mithian didn’t seem to take any offense to it.

 

“And I’m not complaining, now am I?”

 

“‘Spose not.” Merlin admitted, turning back towards the forest. “Do you have any idea when your father’s arriving?”

 

“I imagine he received the invitation a few days ago.” Mithian answered as they begun walking once more. “As long as there are no other matters for him to attend to in Nemeth, I’d guess he’s likely to arrive before the week’s end.”

 

“It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him.”

 

“I was prepared to leave Nemeth to live in Camelot permanently when I came to marry Arthur. I am more than capable of looking after myself.” Mithian’s voice took on an unexpected defensive tone.

 

“I know you are.” Merlin said in response, looking back towards her. “That wasn’t what I meant. I just… does he question it at all? You staying here as long as you have?”

 

Mithian went quiet for a moment. “We haven’t spoken much since Amata. He approved of my desire to assist Guinevere, and I believe he would understand my reasonings for not yet leaving.”

 

“It was kind of you to step in as you did. Seeing Arthur in his state couldn’t have been easy for her.” 

 

“Have you been sleeping any better?” Mithian asked, changing the subject.

 

“Yes. Fine.” Merlin answered, more coldly than he meant to. He turned towards her when she didn’t respond. She was staring at him knowingly, arms crossed against her chest. “I’m fine. Just some nightmares now and then.”

 

“You’re allowed to admit to that, you know.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ .” Merlin asserted, turning away. 

 

“Have you spoken to Mordred at all?” Mithian inquired, and Merlin was just grateful for the change in subject.

 

“Of course I have.”

 

“I mean about what happened.” Okay. A change in subject- not so much.

 

Merlin hesitated, his steps faltering. “No. Not really.”

 

“Perhaps you should.” 

 

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” Merlin said quietly. It wasn’t that he had a problem talking to Mordred. And if Mordred needed to talk about it, he’d be willing to listen, but he’d rather avoid that conversation all together.

 

A familiar looking plant sticking out of the ground gave Merlin just the opportunity he needed to change the dreaded subject. 

 

“Ah, look.” Merlin pointed towards the plant. “Clary sage. It’s used to make eye wash among other things.”

 

He pulled it from the ground, making sure to keep the roots intact. Mithian was watching him with an expression Merlin couldn’t quite identify, so he ignored it entirely. Mithian had come along to learn about herbs, not to pick him apart. 

 

The nightmares would pass. They always did. It wasn’t as if this was the first bad thing to ever happen in his life. He’d move on. He always did.

 

Everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we're handing the reigns back off to Merlin.


	27. A Druid's Destiny

It was a little strange, seeing Arthur without Aithusa. It wasn’t as if they were never separated, but it was uncommon to find one without the other. That being said, Arthur had seemed concerned that greeting his guests with a dragon by his side would seem as if he was trying to intimidate them. Merlin hadn’t asked where Aithusa was, but he could assume she was in Arthur’s chambers. She usually was. 

 

“Was it really a good idea to invite Odin?” Mordred whispered, leaning over towards Merlin. 

 

“Arthur didn’t have much of a choice.” Merlin replied. “Odin sent troops to help Camelot when they went against Amata. Not inviting him could be seen as an insult. Besides.” He glanced towards the approaching group. “Cornwall is one of the few places that allows magic to be practiced freely. Odin could be needed in persuading the rest.” Arthur elbowed Merlin not so gently in the side, and he clamped his mouth shut. 

 

Odin stood before them, surrounding but a contingent of his own men. “It’s been many years since I’ve been to Camelot.” Not since the death of his son, Merlin could imagine.

 

Arthur plastered a convincing smile onto his own face. “I hope this will not be the last time.”

 

It was overwhelmingly obvious that Arthur was not happy to have Odin here, nor was Odin happy to be there. At the end of the day, Arthur still killed his son, and Odin had still killed his father. Arthur was willing to look past these personal offenses for the sake of the kingdom, and if Odin was willing to do the same, then they should just be grateful.

 

Rodor had arrived only a few days earlier, quickly followed by both Annis and Godwin. Elena had come as well, but Merlin had seen very little of her since her arrival. Olaf, fortunately, had opted to leave his daughter behind. A love spell induced Vivian would only cause trouble. 

 

Now all who remained to arrive were Bayard, Alined, and Lot- three people Merlin was not looking forward to seeing. The last time Bayard was here, he had been accused of trying to poison Arthur… by Merlin. Even if Merlin had been right, and the goblet  _ had  _ been poisoned, the man was not likely to be fond of the serving boy that got him thrown in the dungeons. Alined, though no one really knew of it, had attempted to start a war, and may very well try again. And Lot… well, Merlin didn’t know much about him. He was apparently ruthless, though probably not as bad as Cenred… hopefully. At the very least, there was never as much tension between Essitir and Camelot during Lot’s reign as there had been during Cenred’s. 

 

Lot was a wild card in these talks. No one, not even Arthur, had any idea as to what side he would be on. He might surprise them all and align himself with Arthur. Or it could be the complete opposite. No one knew. They would find out soon enough, however. 

 

The people on the stairs around him began to move, alerting Merlin that Arthur’s conversation with Odin was over. Odin’s party was escorted away by a handful of servants, most likely towards the chambers prepared for them. Arthur took Merlin’s arm in a firm grip, and pulled him up the stairs and into the doorway of the castle. Merlin allowed him to lead him away without any resistance.

 

“Listen.” Arthur began, glancing back at Odin’s retreating group. “I want you to stay away from Odin. I doubt he’ll try anything, but I don’t want to take any chances. Just about all of the monarchs here know, or will soon know, about what you are and what you can do, but Odin is the only one who might hold any kind of grudge.”

 

To say that Odin was the only one who might hold a grudge towards him wasn’t exactly true. Apparently Arthur didn’t think Bayard would have any issues with him- something Merlin wasn’t quite as sure of. In any case, Odin was probably the only one who might act out due to those grudges. 

 

“I’ll keep my distance.” Merlin promised. 

 

Arthur stared at him for a long moment before nodding once and walking back into the castle.  

 

He was still technically Arthur’s servant, even if he rarely acted in that capacity anymore. Merlin hadn’t been fired, as far as he was aware, but Arthur had him spending most of his day helping out Gaius. On official occasions, such as greeting a visiting king or serving during a banquet, Merlin would stand at Arthur’s side as his servant. The fact that he stood where he did today was proof that Arthur hadn’t dismissed him entierly. He was still Arthur’s servant, and he always would be. 

 

It was more of a relief than it should have been. Arthur clearly held no ill will towards him for the secrets. Not anymore at least. And that was all that he could ever ask for. 

 

The reasoning for his decreased duties would remain a mystery, however. Arthur had already had George taking over many of his responsibilities even before Amata so that Merlin would have more time to practice his magic. And it made sense that Merlin wouldn’t have served Arthur directly after Amata. He wasn’t exactly in a state to do so. But it had been weeks since then. His injuries were healed- sped up by the use of magic. Sometimes, after walking for too long, he would begin to limp- there was a nerve near the back of his knee that had been irreversibly damaged according to Gaius- but as long as he didn’t stay on his feet for too long, it wasn’t particularly noticeable. 

 

Merlin looked back down the steps towards Mordred, who was now looking up at him. He gestured in the direction of Gaius’s chambers, and the druid was soon following close behind. 

 

“I need you to keep an eye on Alined when he arrives. Or Trickler, really.” Merlin opened the door to Gaius’s empty chambers. 

 

“Who?” Mordred asked, watching as Merlin made his way over to a cabinet filled with premeasured medicines. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched Merlin fumble with a number of glass bottles. “What are you doing?”

 

“Gaius wanted me to make sure we still had plenty of sleeping draughts made.” Merlin took a bottle in hand, looking over the label. “Gwen’s started to have some trouble sleeping.”

 

“Is she alright?”

 

“Yeah.” Merlin answered. “It’s normal to have some trouble sleeping when you get that… large. There’s nothing to worry about.”

 

“If Arthur hears you call the Queen large…”

 

“If the  _ Queen  _ hears me call her large- that’s far more frightening.” Merlin, satisfied with the stock, closed the cabinet door. “Arthur used to tell me how scary she could be when she got angry. I never really believed him until now, but angry, pregnant,  _ and  _ tired isn’t a good combination.”

 

“The king isn’t frightened by much.”

 

“Except for angry women.” Merlin let out a short sigh, bringing the conversation back to its original topic. “Trickler is Alined’s jester, but he’s also a sorcerer.”

 

Mordred raised an eyebrow. “But magic is outlawed in Deorham. Does Alined not know?”

 

“Oh, he knows alright. He just doesn’t care as long as the magic is being used to fulfill his own needs.” Merlin turned back towards Mordred. “The last time they were here, Trickler placed a love spell on Arthur in an attempt to induce a war. Trickler is… eccentric, to say the least, but he’s powerful. The love spell was so strong even I couldn’t break it.”

 

“How is Arthur no longer enchanted then?” Mordred asked, suddenly curious. “If you could not lift the spell?”

 

“True love’s kiss.” 

 

“Guinevere.”

 

“Indeed.” Merlin confirmed. “I have no reason to believe he won’t try something like that again. And with Arthur being king rather than a prince, his actions won’t be as easily forgotten.”

 

Mordred nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

 

“Thank you. I stick out a bit more than I used to now, so it’s hard for me to go unnoticed.” Merlin admitted.

 

While Arthur hadn’t come out and told the visiting royals that Merlin was a sorcerer, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Why else would the Sarrum have targeted him? Just about everyone in Camelot could confirm any suspicions if there was any question. Mordred’s magic was also well known at this point, but servant turned sorcerer was a lot more dramatic than druid turned sorcerer.

 

“I’m fairly certain he used magic in front of the entire court- Uther included. He played the part of the jester so well, no one even considered he actually had magic.”

 

“Much like you.” Merlin looked towards Mordred, who shrugged. “To be fair.”

 

Merlin opened his mouth to defend himself, but had to stop. It was true. He had played the part of the servant well. Too well, some might say. “I once admitted to being a sorcerer to Uther and the rest of the court. No one believed me.”

 

Mordred’s eyes widened slightly. “What on  _ Earth  _ would possess you to do such a thing?”

 

“It’s a long story. Gwen ended up getting the blame for magic that I did. I was trying to make things right.”

 

Mordred seemed  to ponder this for a moment. “Seems like everything turned out alright. Without anyone getting killed.”

 

“Fortunately.” Merlin said softly. A long moment went by before he spoke again. “You’ve been a good friend. I’m sorry I never treated you with the same respect.”

 

Mordred smiled. “Things are different now. That’s all that matters.”

 

Merlin hesitated. “I feel I… owe you an explanation. For why I never trusted you.”

 

“It’s alright.” Mordred placated. “I’ve worked with Morgana in the past. It was natural for you to be cautious.”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “That wasn’t it.” He suddenly regretting even starting the conversation, but it had to be done. It had to be said. “The prophecy… it’s more than just Emrys and the Once and Future King. It’s Morgana, too. I was told about her destiny to turn against us long before she did. She’s a part of the prophecy as well.”

 

“Yes, I know.” Mordred said, the concern in his voice obvious.

 

“You are, too.” Merlin whispered, unable to meet Mordred’s eyes. “The same person that told me Morgana would turn against Camelot also told me of your destiny. That you were destined to align yourself with Morgana... and kill Arthur. That’s why I almost let you get captured with him when you were a child. That’s why I almost let you die.”

 

Merlin wait a moment, unsure if Mordred was going to speak. When he didn’t, Merlin continued. “And before we found you in Ismere… I was shown a vision of you killing Arthur. I watched you run him through. And then we saw you, days later. I was terrified that the vision would come true. I wanted Arthur to kill you, but he spared your life once again. And I could never bring myself to kill you in cold blood.”

 

Silence filled the room. Neither one of them said anything, and Merlin couldn’t bring himself to look at the druid.

 

“I… kill Arthur?” Mordred finally said, his voice barely above a soft murmur. “I…”

 

Merlin shook his head once more, finally looking back towards the boy. “I have to believe that… with Morgana gone…” He closed his eyes, clearing his thoughts. “He said you would be united with her in evil, but Morgana is dead. She can’t… I have to believe that it’s over. It’s done. Destiny has been changed.”

 

“Merlin.” Mordred said slowly. “I don’t… I don’t want to hurt Arthur. Please, you must believe me.”

 

“I do.” Merlin reassured him. “I do. I know you would wish Arthur no harm. That’s why I need you to swear to me.” He took both of Mordred’s shoulders into his own hands, and the boy looked like he barely stopped himself from pulling away. “If something happens, if anything ever happens to make you… come to me. Please. Come to me. We’ll fix it. We’ll find another way.”

 

Mordred nodded rapidly, and Merlin could see the tears in his eyes. It couldn’t have been easy to hear. Mordred had always been so much younger than the rest of them, but in that moment, he looked particularly so. “I swear.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes, leaning his head forward slightly. “Thank you.” He let go of the boy’s shoulders, letting his own arms falls to the floor. “Thank you.”

 

“Does Arthur know?” Mordred asked after a long moment of silence.

 

“I never told him.” Merlin looked back up. “And I won’t tell him. Not unless you want me to.”

 

“No.” Mordred said vehemently. “Please. I don’t want him to know.”

 

“Then I won’t tell him.” Merlin promised.

 

Merlin didn’t want to hurt Mordred. He never did, really. At one point, it had seemed as if he would have no other choice. It had merely been a matter of time. But with Morgana dead, everything just seemed different. Mordred wasn’t a threat. He couldn’t be. Merlin wouldn’t  _ let  _ him become a threat. 

 

And after everything they had suffered together, Merlin wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to hurt Mordred anyhow. 

 

He hadn’t been able to save Morgana, but maybe, just maybe, he could save Mordred instead.


	28. A Champion for Sorcerers

Merlin ran a hand down Aithusa’s neck, looking up towards Arthur. Gwen was elsewhere, possibly with Mithian and Elena, so it was just the three of them in the royal chambers. “Had any unpleasant encounters with Odin?”

 

“Fortunately not.” Arthur replied, leaning back in his chair. “Odin has mostly stayed out of the way.” He drummed his fingers against his desk. “It’s a wonder he even accepted the invitation in the first place.”

 

“Perhaps he has finally seen your worth as a king.”

 

Arthur snorted. “I find that unlikely.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve never considered Odin a man to care much for his people, but perhaps I was wrong. Many of his citizens have magic. Maybe he truly wishes better lives for them.”

 

“Maybe.” Merlin agreed, though he had difficulty believing that was any more likely than his own theory. Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter, as long as he wasn’t here to cause trouble. Merlin glanced back down towards Aithusa, who was fast asleep. “Does she always sleep on the bed?”

 

“Only during the day. If she gets tired.” Arthur answered, looking at the dragon fondly. “She has a place to sleep in the antechambers. It would be a bit too crowded for all three of us in the bed.” 

 

In all fairness, the antechambers looked just as comfortable as the actual bed. Merlin wasn’t quite sure where they got all of the blankets and pillows, but it certainly looked much more inviting than his own bed in Gaius’s chambers. 

 

“Indeed.” Merlin said slowly. “How has she been doing? I don’t see her near as much as you do.”

 

Arthur frowned. “She suffered greatly under Sarrum’s hold, but she’ll be alright- I’m sure of it. She’s strong.” He looked towards Merlin. “Have you spoken to the other dragon yet? About healing her?”

 

“Uh… no.” Merlin admitted. “I’ve been putting it off.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Why?”

 

“Because he’s going to yell at me, and I don’t feel like being yelled at.” Merlin crossed his arms defensively. 

 

“You’re a dragonlord!” Arthur cried incredulously. 

 

“Yes, and I’m not particularly afraid of him burning me to death.” Merlin shook his head, his voice lowering into a mumble. “I just don’t want to be scolded by an ancient magical creature.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Why would he scold you?”

 

Merlin sighed softly. “I don’t think he would approve of some of my more recent choices.”

 

“Magic is returning to the land. Isn’t that what he wanted?”

 

Yes. But he also wanted Merlin to kill Mordred, and that wasn’t going to happen. If he found out that he had told Mordred about the prophecy, he would be less than pleased, and Merlin really didn’t want to deal with that at the moment.

 

“I’ll get to it, alright?” Merlin said, more sharply than he meant to. “Any idea when Alined is arriving?” 

 

Arthur looked at him for a moment before responding. “They were delayed by a day, but they should be here soon enough. Tomorrow or the day after, most likely.”

 

“Hm.” Merlin hesitated. “Do you know about Trickler’s magic? I forget.” The look on Arthur’s face clearly showed that he had not, in fact, known about his magic. “Ah, well. Trickler is a sorcerer. He was the one that placed the love spell on you and Vivian- under Alined’s orders, I’m sure.”

 

“That hypocrite.” Arthur shook his head. “Keep an eye on him.”

 

“One step ahead of you.” Merlin replied with a grin. “And I promise, if you start batting eyes at any women besides Gwen, I’ll make sure you’re indisposed.”

 

Arthur raised another eyebrow. “Indisposed?”

 

“I’ll lock you in your own wardrobe like I did Vivian.”

 

“Ah.” Arthur looked down, then up again in shock. “What?”

 

Merlin didn’t bother giving the king any other explanation beyond that, much to the man’s displeasure. He wasn’t lying in any case. If Arthur were to suddenly and inexplicably fall in love with Elena, Mithian, or heaven forbid, Queen Annis herself, Arthur would quickly find himself locked away from the rest of the world until a way to reverse the enchantment was found. 

 

Merlin was forced to break his promise to stay away from Odin far sooner than he would have liked. It was really only a matter of time before they came face to face, but he had been hoping it would occur closer to the end of the peace talks. Alas, not minutes after leaving Arthur’s chambers, he turned the corner to find himself directly in front of the other king.

 

Merlin tried to side step around the man with a silent apology, hoping to avoid any kind of conversation. Much to his displeasure, however, Odin didn’t seem to have the same intentions.

 

“Merlin.” Odin said in greetings, stopping Merlin in his tracks. He was more than a little surprised that the king even knew his name. Odin looked the other man over, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would a sorcerer continue to wear the guise of a servant? It’s hardly a secret anymore.”

 

“There is no guise, sire.” Merlin replied, hoping his voice didn’t show any of his distaste. He had no personal vendetta against Odin. The only dislike he had for the man came from the pain he had caused Arthur. Still, he didn't exactly want to talk to him.  “I am King Arthur’s servant before anything else.”

 

“I’ve seen you in action. Your powers are hardly inconsequential.” Odin mused. “And from what I’ve heard, you bested Morgana in her own game. There are many a courts that would welcome you.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “I already have a place in Camelot’s court, sire.”

 

“As a servant, yes.” Odin agreed. “But you could hold a much more substantial position elsewhere.”

 

Was Odin trying to… Merlin raised his chin up slightly, feeling more than a little affronted. “I am and will always be loyal to Arthur and Arthur alone. There is nothing anyone could offer me to make me leave Camelot. I’m happy to be a servant if that is the position required of me by my king.”

 

“I see.” Odin said slowly. “Arthur is lucky to have such a loyal servant.”

 

“It is I who is lucky.” Merlin said in response. “To have a king such as him.” He nodded once in Odin’s direction, excusing himself from the conversation. He hoped Odin wouldn’t try to stop him from leaving, and he fortunately did not. 

 

Did Odin actually think Merlin would leave Camelot? Leave Arthur? Just for power? To be fair, it wasn’t as if Odin knew Merlin or had spent much time in his presence, but it was a little bit insulting- to think he could be bribed so easily. So much for Odin not causing any trouble. Though, if that was all the trouble he caused during his time in Camelot, Merlin would be more than satisfied.

 

Merlin didn’t quite realize he was heading towards Mithian’s chambers before he was already there. He knocked on the door, opening it when the voice inside called for him to enter.

 

“You will not  _ believe  _ what just-” Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. 

 

Mithian was not alone in the room as he had assumed. Rodor was there as well and had watched as a serving boy walked casually into his daughter’s chambers. Of all the people Merlin had been concerned about offending, Rodor had not been one of them. Alas.

 

“My lord.” Merlin bowed his head. “My apologizes… I…”

 

“You were in Nemeth, weren’t you?” Rodor asked, ignoring Merlin’s apology entirely. “With Arthur.”

 

“Yes, sire.” 

 

“And you are a sorcerer.”

 

Merlin tried to hide his flinch from the bitterness of his words. “Yes, sire.” 

 

Rodor was silent for several seconds, watching Merlin with sharp, calculating eyes. “I haven’t had many good experiences with your kind in recent times.” Merlin looked down slightly at his words. He had thought Rodor of all people to be more open to magic, but apparently he was wrong. “But from what Mithian tells me, it was you who was responsible for our escape from Morgana.”

 

Merlin looked up, surprise flashing in his eyes. He glanced towards Mithian, before looking back towards Rodor. “We all played our parts. I cannot take all the credit.”

 

Rodor looked over him once more, turning towards Mithian. “I will see you tonight.”

 

Mithian nodded once. “Of course, father.”

 

Rodor left the room without any further acknowledgement of Merlin. That could have gone better, but at the same time, it could have gone so, so much worse. 

 

Merlin let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was in here.”

 

“It’s no matter.” Mithian sat down on the edge of the bed. “What brings you here?”

 

“I, uh.” Merlin struggled to remember why exactly he had come in the first place. “I just spoke to Odin.”

 

Mithian furrowed her eyebrows. “I thought Arthur told you to stay away from him?”

 

“It wasn’t  _ my  _ fault.”

 

“Of course it wasn’t.” Mithian looked like she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “What did you speak of?”

 

“Oh, nothing much.” Merlin leaned against the wall. “He just wanted to let me know that there are other courts in which someone of my power would be welcome.”

 

Mithian’s eyebrows rose comically. “He wanted you to return to Cornwall with him?”

 

“He wasn’t that direct, but yes. That was the feeling I was getting.”

 

Mithian shook her head. “I can’t imagine what would happen if Arthur found out.”

 

“Thus why I have no intention of telling him.” Merlin let out a sigh. “I think I made my point clear enough, so I doubt he’ll bring it up again.”

 

“That’s all for the best. Besides, if any court is going to steal you away, it’s going to be Nemeth.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You want  _ me  _ to be a part of Nemeth’s court? Can you even picture that? Me, sitting with all those lords. Discussing… taxes…”

 

“You can’t have served Arthur as long as you have and still pretend to be unknowledgeable about court life.” Mithian smiled slightly. “And I think you’d make a fine councilman. It might even be worth Arthur’s wrath.”

 

“He does have a dragon, you know.”

 

“One that  _ you  _ control.”

 

“Touch é.” Despite that, Merlin wasn’t entirely sure he could make Aithusa turn on Arthur. Not that he ever would, of course. Dragonlord or not, it certainly wouldn’t be an easy feat. “So. You’ve been talking to your father about me?” Merlin asked in a slightly teasing tone.

 

That time Mithian did roll her eyes. “Oh shush. He was a bit unsure about these peace talks after what Morgana and Odin did. I was just trying to put things into perspective. You happen to be an easy example.”

 

Merlin frowned. “Is it alright for you? With Odin being here? I mean, after what he did to the both of you…”

 

“It is unpleasant.” Mithian admitted, looking away. “But if it’s the price I must pay to bring safety to those with magic, then I will pay it gladly.”

 

Merlin’s lips quirked upwards. “Since when were you a champion for sorcerers?”

 

“Since one saved the life of both me and my father.” Mithian replied without hesitation. 

 

Merlin paused, his frown returning. “You don’t owe me anything.”

 

“This isn’t about a debt, Merlin.” Mithian looked back towards him. “This is about doing what’s right.”

 

Merlin didn’t say anything for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I appreciate that.”

 

“Will you show me your magic?” Mithian asked hopefully. “I don’t get to see it very often in Nemeth.”

 

“Of course.” Merlin said easily. “Anything in particular?”

 

“Surprise me.”

 

“Right.” Merlin sat on the bed next to Mithian. Hopefully her father wouldn’t walk back in any time soon. He folded his hands together, whispering the words into them.  _ “Gewyrcan lif.” _ He opened his hands, and a small, blue butterfly sat in his palm. 

 

“It’s beautiful.” Mithian said quietly. 

 

“Magic can be.” The insect began to flutter out of his hand and into the rest of the room. “And now I’ve created an infestation.”

 

“I would hardly call one butterfly an infestation.”

 

“All it takes it one and more will surely follow.”

 

Mithian raised an eyebrow. “I think it requires two.”

 

Merlin paused. “Right. Yes. Two.” He looked back towards Mithian with a grin. “I shouldn’t make any more then, should I?”

 

Without warning, Mithian’s lips were pressed up against his own. Merlin was shocked into stillness for several moments before he closed his eyes and returned the kiss. In a moment of panic, Merlin pulled back, holding her arms in his hands.

 

“I am… so sorry.” Merlin said, breathless. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“ _ I _ kissed  _ you _ .”

 

“I kissed you back.”

 

Mithian let out of a huff of laughter. “I would have been offended if you hadn’t.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “You’re a princess.”

 

“Well spotted.”

 

“I’m a servant.”

 

“Only by choice.” Mithian leaned in once more, only to be held back by Merlin. 

 

“What would your father say?” He would kill him. He would actually murder him. Merlin wasn’t just a serving boy kissing his daughter. He was a sorcerer. He was a creature her father barely tolerated, and that small amount of tolerance would certainly fade if Rodor found out he had defiled Mithian. 

 

“My father isn’t here.” Mithian said in response, clearly not experiencing the same concerns as Merlin was.

 

“He’d run me through.” Merlin jumped off the bed, backing towards the door.

 

Mithian stood as well, but didn’t follow him as he walked away. “I think you have my father confused with Olaf.”

 

“ _ Mithian _ .”

 

“ _ Merlin. _ ”

 

“I…” Merlin glanced backwards towards the door, then back towards Mithian. “I should go.”

 

Mithian’s face fell, which only made guilt bubble in Merlin’s gut. “I apologize if my advances were unwelcome. I misread the situation. I hope you can forgive me.”

 

“You didn’t.” Merlin said before he could think. “They weren’t… believe me, they weren’t… unwelcome, I mean…” He gave the door another panicked look. “I should just go.”

 

He turned around, hand on the door knob when Mithian spoke once more. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

 

Merlin paused, looking briefly towards Mithian. “I, uh. Yes. I imagine you will.” Another hesitant pause followed. “Goodnight, princess.” And with that, Merlin opened the door, shutting it behind him. 


	29. Realized Fears

Alined arrived the next day, and, as Merlin had assumed, Trickler was with him. The chance of Alined not bring the man with him had always been very slim, but it would have made everything much simpler should that have been the case. 

 

With all of the invited monarchs now in Camelot, Arthur seemed to be slowly going insane. There were some- like Rodor, Annis, and surprisingly Lot- who caused very little trouble. Others, however, were pushing all of Camelot’s patience to its very limit. Merlin needed to get Arthur out of the castle before the king did something he would surely regret. 

 

“We’re leaving.” Merlin said, poking his head into Arthur’s chambers. 

 

Arthur turned, looking up from his desk. “What?”

 

“You. Me. Mordred. Aithusa. We’re going to go see Kilgharrah.”

 

“Now?”

 

“Yes now.” Merlin gestured for Arthur to follow him. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”

 

Letting Mordred come with them to see the dragon was almost certainly a bad idea, but he just didn’t have the heart to tell the boy ‘no, you can’t come with us to see the Great Dragon because he actually really wants me to kill you’. This was going to backfire tremendously.

 

Merlin had been waiting in the courtyard with Mordred for nearly fifteen minutes when Arthur finally made his way down with Aithusa with a torch in his hand.

 

“What took you so long?” Merlin questioned, more curious than annoyed.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to wake a sleeping dragon?” Arthur said defensively. 

 

Merlin glanced down at Aithusa. It was clear she was still quite tired. It wasn’t the middle of the night, but it was late enough that much of the castle had already gone to bed, or surely would soon. Hopefully Gwen wouldn’t be too concerned when she retired to find both Arthur and Aithusa missing. 

 

Merlin led the group to his usual clearing before calling for the dragon to appear.  _ “O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!”  _ Arthur’s reaction was much more muted than Merlin had expected, but the king  _ had  _ already seen it once before- a fact that Merlin had nearly forgotten. 

 

Several minutes later, the dragon arrived. 

 

“Young warlock.” Kilgharrah said in greeting. “It has been a long time since you’ve called for me.”

 

Merlin looked away briefly. “I lost the ability for awhile. It doesn't matter.” He added quickly at Kilgharrah’s quizzical look. 

 

“I see you’ve found the youngling.” He said approvingly, before his eyes snapped onto Mordred. “What reason have you for bringing the druid boy to me?”

 

Mordred flinched away slightly at the clear distaste in the tone, and Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Merlin took a mostly unconscious step in front of him. “We’re here about Aithusa, not Mordred. She has been deformed due to her treatment from when she was the Sarrum’s captive. Is there anything you can do for her?”

 

Kilgharrah stared at Mordred for a moment longer before looking to the white dragon. “Dragons are magically creatures. She will heal naturally over time.” There was a sense of relief that she would indeed heal, but also a flash of disappointment. How long would that take? “I could speed up the process however.” 

 

Merlin’s head whipped up. “How?”

 

“There is a place of healing outside the land of Albion. It is not a place mortal men can visit, but I can take her there.”

 

“No.” Arthur said before Merlin could even consider it. “Last time she was in your care, she ended up with Morgana. She’s staying in Camelot.”

 

“Arthur-” Merlin tried, but the king stayed firm. 

 

“I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

 

“Your father kept me imprisoned under Camelot for over twenty years.” Kilgharrah’s eyes narrowed on Arthur. “Interesting how you would do the same.”

 

Arthur’s face immediately darkened. “If Aithusa wanted to leave Camelot, I would let her, but she doesn’t want to. She wants to stay here.”

 

“So it would seem.” 

 

Merlin looked towards Aithusa, who appeared to be half hiding behind Arthur, her tail curled around his legs. Arthur reached a soothing hand down to stroke her head, calming the nervous creature. Between Arthur and her own kind, she would still pick Arthur. Even the idea of leaving him seemed to be frightening her quite a bit.

 

“So there’s nothing you can do for her now?” Merlin asked, looking back at the large dragon.

 

“No, there is not.” 

 

Merlin let out a breath. “It was worth a try. Thank you.”

 

“Merlin.” Kilgharrah called out as he turned to leave. “I wish to speak to you.”

 

Merlin glanced towards Arthur hesitantly. “Can you give us a minute?” 

 

Arthur looked confused and a little angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at Merlin. “If this is about Aithusa, I want to hear it.”

 

“I really don’t think we’re going to be talking about Aithusa.” Merlin mumbled.

 

Arthur stared at him for a moment longer. “Is this the lecture you were anticipating?”

 

“I think so.”

 

His lip quirked slightly. “Alright. Come on, Aithusa.” Soon, Arthur and Aithusa had vacated the premise, Mordred following not far behind.

 

Merlin reluctantly turned back towards the dragon. “I know what you’re going to say.”

 

“You have chosen to trust the druid boy.” Kilgharrah said, ignoring Merlin’s previous statement. “This will not end well.”

 

“Morgana is dead.” Merlin protested calmly. “There can be no alliance now.”

 

“That does not mean the boy is no longer dangerous.”

 

“I know him. You don’t.” Merlin’s voice dropped defensively. A year ago, the idea of him defending Mordred would have seemed laughable. But here he was, doing exactly that.

 

“You said the same thing about the witch once.” Kilgharrah pointed out unhelpfully.

 

Merlin shook his head. “Perhaps there was a path that led to Arthur’s death by Mordred’s hand. I saw the vision myself. I know that to be true, but I also believe that path to have been diverted. Destiny has changed, I know it has, and I’m not going to kill an innocent man based on a ‘what if’.”

 

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

 

“I’m not going to let Arthur die, and I’m not going to kill Mordred.” Merlin took in a breath. “I’ve managed to keep Arthur safe thus far. Nothing will change that.”

 

“Just beware, Emrys.” The dragon warned, lowering his head towards Merlin. “I sense your troubles are not yet over.”

 

Before Merlin could even respond, Kilgharrah took off in flight, leaving him alone in the open field. In a way, he was almost glad the dragon left, as he wasn’t sure what he would have said in response. 

 

“Were you talking about me?” Mordred asked as Merlin walked back towards the castle. Arthur and Aithusa had already headed back, so only Mordred remained behind.

 

Merlin thought about lying, but there was little point. Mordred already seemed to know the answer. “Yes. Yes, we were.” He glanced at the druid, hesitating. “He was the one who told me to let you die when you were a child.”

 

A very brief look of surprise flashed across Mordred’s face. Perhaps he hadn’t expected Merlin to have been speaking to the dragon even back then. He sighed. “At least Aithusa doesn’t hate me.”

 

“One out of two ain’t bad.” Merlin spared the boy a half-hearted grin. “And Kilgharrah doesn’t like anyone, so don’t take it too personally.”

 

“He likes you.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

A feast was held the next day for their guests of honor. Never before had so many monarchs joined in one place. Even Uther’s peace talks all those years ago had only included those of the five kingdoms. While not every ruler in Albion was present, it was indeed most of them. 

 

“Are you sure it won’t be strange- having Emrys serve me wine?” Arthur asked as he and Merlin approached the doors. 

 

Merlin shrugged. “It’s not as if many of they even know about the Emrys thing. Only Mithian does, as far as I’m aware.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “How does Mithian know then?”

 

“I told her.” There wasn’t much he  _ hadn’t  _ told Mithian at that point. There was little point in keeping any secrets from her. She was obviously trustworthy, and her curiosity was clearly evident. There was no harm in telling her such things.

 

“They still know you’re a powerful sorcerer.” Arthur said after a beat. “To stand behind me like a servant might seem a bit odd.”

 

“I  _ am  _ a servant.” Merlin reminded him, holding up the pitcher of wine he had grabbed from the kitchens just minutes before. “It doesn’t matter how powerful I am, I will always be your servant. They should know that.”

 

“Perhaps.” Arthur relented. He pushed open the doors to the hall where everyone else was already seated- waiting for their host. The room quieted after his entrance, and all heads turned towards him. 

 

Arthur stood next to Gwen, addressing the room. “I thank you all for joining us today for the momentous occasion. Never before has so many kingdoms come together in the name of peace. Today we celebrate not just the end of the war on magic, but the end of war between us all.” Arthur raised his goblet towards the rest of the room. “To the peace that will help to prosper this land.”

 

The rest of the room raised their own glasses in a toast before Arthur sat down. Merlin walked forward, filling the goblet with wine. Odin caught his eye briefly, and Merlin looked away. If the man wanted to make any kind of further point about him being a servant, then Merlin was not interested. 

 

“They’re staring at you.” Merlin turned at the whispered voice. Most of the servants had begun to avoid him upon his secret being revealed, so it was a bit surprising to see one of the maids starting a conversation with him. 

 

“I noticed.” Merlin said in response, looking back over to the tables. Some of them were more obvious than others. Annis had glanced at him a few times, but no longer seemed interested at this point. Godwin likely didn’t even remember Merlin from his time here, and may not have even realized that he was the servant turned sorcerer. 

 

“Not just the monarchs.” The maid added, and Merlin looked to the rest of the room. If he had thought the guests were staring, it was nothing compared to Camelot’s staff. This was the first time he had served Arthur to publicly since Morgana’s attack, so even they were unused to it.

 

“What do they think I’m going to do?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Poison someone?”

 

“No, of course not.” The maid replied with a smile. “I think they’re more concerned about you turning them into frogs.”

 

“I would never.” Merlin said in mock offense. “Toads, maybe. But frogs? What kind of uncivilized witch do you take me for?”

 

The maid giggled at his response, making him smile slightly. It was nice to know that not everyone here feared him. 

 

Merlin looked back towards the rest of the room, catching Mithian’s eye briefly before she turned away. Guilt began to roll in his gut. They hadn’t spoken much since the kiss. He desperately hoped she knew he wasn’t upset with her. There wasn’t much she would be able to do at this point to upset him- after everything she had done for him since Amata. 

 

The sound of a cough made Merlin glance back towards Arthur, his eyes narrowing as Gwen placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. The Queen shot Merlin a concerned look, and he rushed towards them. Something was wrong. 

 

Arthur had one hand on his chest as he looked up at the quickly approaching Merlin. The king looked pale and was clearly struggling to breath. 

 

Arthur had been poisoned.

 

Merlin looped one of Arthur’s arms around his shoulder, pulling him from the room and out into the hall. The last thing Arthur would want is for any of the other monarchs to see him in such a state. Merlin only vaguely noticed Gwen and Gaius following them.

 

Arthur grabbed at Merlin’s jacket, still entirely conscious despite the closing of his throat and the palpitations in his chest. The panic in his eyes was not something the king would ever admit to, but it was undeniably there. 

 

“You’re fine, Arthur. You’re fine.” Merlin said in a rushed tone. Seeing Arthur frightened was such a rare occurrence, and it was so very painful to watch. “I can fix this.” He placed both hands over Arthur’s heart.  _ “Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” _

 

The spell was probably overkill- it was the same one he used when Gwen, enchanted, had poisoned him all those months ago- but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

 

For a moment, nothing happened, but then Arthur heaved in a heavy breath, the hand still clenched in Merlin’s jacket only releasing after several seconds. Merlin leaned back on his haunches, relief spreading over him. 

 

“Sire?” It was Leon, who must have followed them out as well. 

 

“The King was poisoned.” Merlin turned towards the knight. “But he’ll be fine.”

 

Merlin took a few steps back, letting Gwen kneel down next to her husband. The doors to the hall opened once more, and Mithian walked through them, heading straight towards Merlin. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

Merlin shook his head. “Someone tried to kill Arthur. It has to be one of the visiting royals. It has to be.” He ran a hand through his hair.

 

“But he’ll be fine, right?” Mithian asked in a calming tone, forcing Merlin to look at her. 

 

“Yes, but someone tried to  _ kill  _ him, and…”

 

“And they didn’t succeed.” Mithian placed a hand on Merlin’s arm. “And now we know someone wishes him harm. If they try again, we’ll be prepared.”

 

Arthur struggled to stand from his place on the ground, using the wall to steady himself, and Merlin walked back towards him. 

 

“Arthur, you need to go with Gaius. He should look you over.” Gwen begged, standing alongside him. 

 

“No, I’m fine.” Arthur looked towards Merlin. “I’m fine, right?”

 

Merlin hesitated. Fine isn’t exactly the word he would have used. “Well, I mean, the poison is gone, yes, but…”

 

Arthur nodded. “I’m going back in.”

 

“Are you insane?” Merlin took a step in front of Arthur, blocking the doorway. “You were just poisoned, and you want to go back to the people that poisoned you?”

 

“Whoever did this did it for a reason.” Arthur reasoned. “They want me to look weak.”

 

Merlin scoffed. “I’m pretty sure the reason was for you to  _ die _ .”

 

“Well they did a pretty rubbish job of that. They poisoned me in a public place, with you right there next to me. What did they think was going to happen?” Arthur sighed. “Either there was another purpose, or they’re not that bright. Just get me another plate and a fresh pitcher of wine.” He turned towards Leon. “No one else was poisoned, I presume?”

 

Leon shook his head. “Just you, sire.”

 

Arthur nodded, looking back towards Merlin. “Just tell everyone I had an allergic reaction. A mix up in the kitchens.”

 

“Why are you taking this so lightly?” Merlin asked, exasperated. 

 

“I’m not.” Arthur said gently. “Someone just poisoned me. I’m just not inclined to let them get what they want. We’ll find out who it is soon enough, and then we’ll understand exactly what’s going on. Until then, we must not let these peace talks fall apart. You understand?”

 

Merlin paused for a moment before nodding hesitantly. Someone had tried to kill his king, and they would strike again. But just like this time, Merlin would be there. He wouldn’t let his king come to any harm. 


	30. Bittersweet Rejections

The rest of the feast went by with little incident. The allergy explanation seemed to be accepted by most. If anyone had any suspicions, they kept them to themselves.

 

“It has to be Alined.” Merlin said firmly, pacing the length of Gaius’s quarters. “Or Odin. No one else would want Arthur dead.”

 

“You did say Alined would try something.” Mordred pointed out. “If war is what he wants, killing Arthur would be the best way to get it.”

 

Merlin sighed. “But even Alined is smarter than this. I mean, he’s a coward, but he’s not an idiot. Poisoning Arthur in front of everyone, in front of me- what was he thinking?”

 

“Perhaps Arthur’s right.” Mordred said slowly. “Perhaps there was another reason besides wanting him dead. What if it was to scare people? To scare Arthur? To scare you?”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, turning to look at Mordred. “What do you mean?”

 

“You said Odin wanted you. What if this was a threat?”

 

“Come with me, or I’ll kill your king?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right. The last thing he would want to do is anger me. And how would Odin even get access to Arthur’s food? Alined at least has Trickler. He’s a servant- he could get to the food. And with his magic, he wouldn’t have had that much trouble. I can’t see anyone, even the kitchen staff, letting any of Odin’s men near anything the king would eat- not with their history.”

 

“Has the kitchen staff come up with anything yet?” Mordred asked.

 

“No.” Merlin answered regretfully. “No one saw anyone from Deorham or Cornwall anywhere near the food. There was a servant from Caerleon seen in the corridor nearby, but never in the kitchens. And I really doubt Annis is trying to kill Arthur anyhow.”

 

Mordred paused for a moment. “Just because the Queen has forgiven Arthur for killing their King doesn’t mean the rest of them have.”

 

“That’s true.” Merlin conceded. “But again, he was never in the kitchen. And if no one was near the food, it means magic must have been involved.”

 

“Trickler.”

 

“Trickler.”

 

Arthur had agreed with the assessment, but he was unwilling to make a move against Alined or Trickler without proof. No one had actually seen him do it- not even Mordred, who had been watching the man at Merlin’s request. Arthur wouldn’t risk these peace talks with accusations.  

 

The poison had been hemlock, Gaius had told him, which only brought back bad memories. Seeing Arthur suffocate the way Morgana had… Gaius had also confirmed that a vial of hemlock was missing from his stores, so Alined hadn’t even brought his own poison. Maybe he had been concerned about the poison being found before he had a chance to use it. Maybe it had been a spur of the moment decision. The latter seemed particularly unlikely, but sneaking poison from Camelot’s supply seemed even more risky than just bringing your own.

 

“It would be just like Alined to try to do this.” Gwen mused.

 

“Exactly.” Merlin pulled back the blinds, searching the window sill.

 

“This is the last thing Arthur needs right now. He has enough to worry about without wondering if someone is going to try and kill him in his sleep.”

 

“Gaius can give him a sleeping draught if he’s having problems sleeping. Though…” Merlin paused, running his arm under the mattress. “It would probably be for the best if he was sleeping lightly for the time being.” Merlin pulled open one of the dresser drawers, growing frustrated as some of the candles toppled off the table at the movement. “What is with all these candles?!”

 

He reached down, placing the candles back on the table. Gwen remained silent.

 

“Where’s Aithusa anyways?” Merlin asked after a moment, noticing the empty antechambers.

 

“Out with Arthur.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “He takes her out during the day now?”

 

“She was getting restless.” Gwen said in response.

 

Merlin stuck his hand under the bed. Nothing. He lifted up the pillows… and there it was. A poultice. Under Arthur’s pillow. Merlin grabbed it, flinching at the feeling of it.

 

“What is it?” Gwen asked, slowly growing horrified by his findings.

 

“It’s a hex bag.” Merlin answered, his voice stiff. “And a strong one, too. I can feel it. This would have killed him.” His eyes widened slowly. “Where’s Arthur now?”

 

“He said he was going to the caves-”

 

Merlin raced out of the room before Gwen could even finish her sentence, making his way down to the caves where Kilgharrah had once been held. The relief in the air was palpable when Merlin saw Arthur standing near the cliff’s edge, holding a torch, and watching Aithusa fly around the open cavern.

 

“Arthur.” Merlin breathed, closing his eyes briefly in relief.

 

Arthur turned towards Merlin, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, what is it?”

 

Merlin reached out his hand, showing him the poultice. “I found this under your pillow.”

 

“Another assassination attempt.” Arthur mused. “They’ll make another attempt, once they realize this one has failed.”

 

“It’s Trickler, I’m telling you!”

 

“I believe you, Merlin.” Arthur placated. “But others may not. I need him caught in the act.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “I’ve had Mordred following him. He still hasn’t been able to catch him.”

 

“Then we must keep trying.”

 

“Let him keep trying to kill you until we see him do it?!” Merlin let out a huff air. “What about if he succeeds?! If I hadn’t searched your chambers, you would have been dead by morning.”

 

Arthur turned away from Aithusa to look at him. “I trust you to keep me safe.”

 

Merlin gave the man an incredulous look. “Right. Yeah. No pressure, or anything.”

 

“Is Guinevere alright?” Arthur said after a beat, a look of concern flashing over him.

 

Merlin nodded. “There was no hex bag under her pillow. It seems Alined doesn’t care if she’s killed, though having her husband the victim of multiple assassination attempts isn’t exactly great for her health. Especially in her current state.”

 

Arthur hesitated for a long moment. “You don't think they’d try anything… with the baby.”

 

“I think even Alined isn’t desperate enough to try and harm your child.” Merlin assured him. “He wants war, not a genocide.”

 

Aithusa landed on the rocks next to Arthur. She walked towards Merlin, pressing her head into his hand.

 

Merlin sighed. “Maybe you were right. About the cave. It’s not a bad place for a dragon, so long as she isn’t chained up.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that.” Arthur said firmly. “Not to her.”

 

Merlin stroked Aithusa’s head, looking over her deformed form. “Listen. I know he comes off a bit… rough, but Kilgharrah means well.”

 

Arthur’s face turned cold. “He should have looked after Aithusa better.”

 

“Yeah, well, I should have as well.”

 

“You had other things to worry about.” Arthur said in his defense. “Like me, for instance.”

 

Aithusa walked back over to Arthur, a low sound growing in his throat. “Arrrrr.”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow, but Arthur only smiled. “She’s been doing that a lot recently. I think she’s trying to speak.”

 

That certainly was something. “I don't know how old dragons are supposed to be when they start talking.” Merlin admitted. “I’m not sure if she hasn’t started yet because of her age, or because of the damage done to her body.”

 

“She’ll get there.” Arthur looked up from Aithusa. “You said Mordred was watching Alined. Did he see anything with the poultice?”

 

“I just found it. I haven’t spoken to him yet.” Merlin thought for a moment. “I also left Gwen in quite a state.”

 

Arthur sighed. “I think that’s our cue then.” He ran a hand down Aithusa’s side. “Let’s go appease the wife.”

 

Aithusa followed Arthur close behind as he left the cave, and Merlin, in turn, went straight to Mordred. He didn’t bother knocking as he pushed open the door to the druid’s quarters and let himself in.

  
“Did you see anything? Anything at all?”

 

Mordred was clearly caught off guard by Merlin’s sudden appearance, but he recovered quickly enough. “See what?”

 

Merlin tossed the hex bag to Mordred, and the druid caught it mid air. “I found this under Arthur’s pillow.”

 

Mordred shook his head incredulously. “You can’t have. I followed Trickler all night after the feast.”

 

“Maybe he did it before.”

 

“Why assume the poison wouldn’t work?”

 

“A backup. Just in case.” Even Merlin knew he was grasping at straws, but there had to be an explanation. There had to be.

 

“Maybe this isn’t Alined.” Mordred said after a beat.

 

“It can’t be Odin!” Merlin sighed, exasperated. “This proves they’re using magic, and Odin doesn’t have a sorcerer.”

 

“That we know of.”

 

“I don’t know.” Merlin rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s just… why the poultice?”

 

Mordred furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean.” Merlin began, turning to face Mordred directly. “The king had an attempt on his life. Of course his room is going to be searched. Of course there are going to be precautions put in place. The poultice wasn’t even that hard to find! They had to of realized that. Why be so obvious?” Merlin leaned against the wall. “If this was an attempt on his life, it was a shabby one.”

 

“I suppose we should be grateful of that.” Mordred murmured.

 

“It won’t be long before they make another attempt. Arthur’s keeping guards at his door now, which should prevent any more bedroom ambushes. All his food is being tested before it’s given to him, and George is hardly going to poison him while delivering it. There’s no telling what will be next.”

 

“We’ll be prepared.” Mordred said confidently. “That’s all that matters.”

 

Yes. Yes they would. Arthur would come to no more harm. Of that, Merlin was certain.

 

It wasn’t long after leaving Mordred’s chambers that Merlin saw Mithian once more. Merlin turned as she called out to him, giving her a genuine smile. “Princess.”

 

“How’s Arthur?” Mithian asked, concern obvious. “I haven’t seen him since the feast.”

 

“He’s well.” Merlin replied, glancing in the direction of Arthur’s chambers. “The poison didn’t have any lasting effects.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s lucky you were there to save him.”

 

Merlin looked down very briefly. “I appreciate you not telling anyone what really happened. Arthur’s concerned that, if the assassination attempts came out, it could disrupt the peace talks.”

 

“I can understand that.” Mithian hesitated. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

 

Merlin stiffened slightly, but it faded quickly enough. He knew what this was about. “Of course.”

 

She took in a short breath. “The way I acted those days ago was inappropriate. I’m a princess. I put you in a situation where you risked offending me if you refused, and I apologize.”

 

Merlin shook his head, mouth opened slightly. “Mithian, no, that’s not…” He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them once again. “Believe me when I say that your advances were not… unwelcome. Far from it, in fact.”

 

“Then why did you leave?” Her voice was so quiet, Merlin nearly didn’t hear it at all.

 

“Because.” Merlin sighed. “It’s as you said. You’re a princess. Nothing can ever happen between us, no matter how much I may wish it so.”

 

“Arthur married a servant.”

 

“That was a different situation.”

 

“In what way?”

 

“It just is.”

 

“ _Merlin_.” Mithian said at last, growing exasperated with his avoidance of the question.

 

Fine. The blunt truth. “You’re the heir to the throne of Nemeth. You’ll have to return there soon enough, and I… I can’t go with you. I have to stay with Arthur.”

 

“If Arthur truly speaks of uniting the lands then…”

 

“Mithian.” There was a part of Merlin that was warmed by her persistence, but it was overruled by the crushing disappointment of the truth. “It can’t happen. Not while I’m needed here, and not while you have a throne waiting for you.” Merlin pressed a hand to her shoulder, hoping no one would walk down the hall and see them. “I am truly grateful for the friend you have been. When I first came back from Amata, I wasn’t well, and you were there. I am more grateful for that than I could possibly ever hope to express. I wish things could be different, but it cannot be.”

 

Merlin hesitated, before leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He pulled back after just a second, resting his forehead against her own.

 

“I think Camelot might be cursed for me.” Mithian said quietly, a small, sad smile on her face. “That’s twice now I’ve been rejected here.”

 

The guilt, at this point, was overwhelming. “Mithian…”

 

“No.” Mithian shook her head slightly, leaning back. “No, I understand. I do. And you’re right.” She paused for a moment. “But I hope we can continue to be friends.”

 

“I would like nothing more.” Merlin said, meaning it with all his heart.

 

Mithian gave him another small smile, walking away and back to her chambers. It wasn’t fair. Arthur could marry anyone in the world. Mithian would never have that same luxury. And neither would he.

 

More than anything, Merlin just hoped she would find another to love her- someone she could marry. Someone other than him.


	31. A Fear of the Dark

The first meeting of the peace talks wasn’t overly successful. Some of the monarchs were far more open than others. Despite what Rodor had said to Merlin in Mithian’s chambers, he was more open to allowing magic back into their kingdom than some. Godwin, on the other hand, had been a close friend and ally of Uther’s and was not as quick to agree. Elena, who Merlin had been a bit surprised to see at the meeting to begin with, had said very little, and would likely just agree with whatever her father put forward. 

 

Alined said very little one way or another. It was clear he was against the legalization of magic, but he wasn’t as volatile about the issue as Merlin would have assumed. After all, it would be much better for Alined if he was the only one to have a sorcerer at their command. It was very likely that his quietness on the subject was merely in an attempt to not have the blame pointed at him if his assassination attempts were successful. 

 

Lot, like Alined, had been quiet. The man was still a mystery to Merlin, and even he wasn't sure what side the man was on. Annis, after some convincing, would most likely be able to be persuaded to support magic. She may have worked with Morgana at one point, but if anything, the experience had turned her even more against magic. Arthur had been less than subtle about using Merlin as an example to the opposite, even if he never said his name. 

 

Bayard also had many bad experiences with magic. The last time he was in Camelot, Nimueh had nearly gotten him killed. And the fact that he had been trying to make peace with Uther to begin with always implied that he was not in favor of magic. His stance at the talks only cemented Merlin’s suspicions. 

 

Odin’s opinion on the matter was as expected. Magic was already allowed in Cornwall. He had worked with Morgana, and though he had failed, he had never been betrayed by her. He clearly wanted Merlin to replace her in that role- not that that would ever happen. Overall, nothing truly unexpected occured. 

 

“That could have gone better.” Arthur said as he left the council chambers, looking worn from the discussion.

 

“It could have gone worse.” Gwen tried. “Nemeth is on board, as is Cornwall. Godwin won’t be that hard to convince.”

 

“Alined is the only real problem.” Arthur sighed.

 

“In more way than one.” Merlin mumbled mostly to himself, but the others were close enough to hear it anyways. 

 

Arthur glanced towards Merlin. “I’m torn between wanting to remove all possible forms of intimidation and just having you scare Alined into submission.”

 

Merlin smiled slightly. “You have Aithusa for that.”

 

“Aithusa isn’t scary.”

 

“She is to tiny jesters.” Merlin pointed out, and even Arthur had to concede to his point. “Perhaps Trickler would enjoy some quality time with her.”

 

“I would never put her through such torture.” Yes. Because it would be torture for Aithusa, and not Trickler. 

 

“Merlin.” Merlin turned at the voice, spotting Mordred down the hall. The knight froze upon seeing Arthur. “I’m sorry, sire. I didn’t realize-”

 

“Meeting’s over.” Arthur interrupted. “I don’t need him anymore. Do with him as you will.”

 

“ _ Do with him as you will? _ ” Merlin raised an incredulous eyebrow. “What- am I about to be flogged?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Arthur said, waving Merlin away. “I’ll still need you for tomorrow's follow up. Don’t be late.”

 

Concern flared up in him as Arthur began to walk away. “You need a guard with you.”

 

“No one is going to attack me while I’m walking to my chambers.” Arthur said, exasperated. “And I have guards on the door. I’ll be fine. Now go.”

 

Merlin relented at last, allowing Arthur to head back towards his chambers with Gwen at his side. He turned back towards Mordred, remembering what caused the discussion to begin with. “What is it?”

 

“What happened in the meeting?” Mordred asked after a beat. “What did the other monarchs say?” 

 

It made sense for Mordred to be curious. After all, the outcome would affect him just as much as any other magic user. Sure, Arthur would keep him safe within Camelot’s walls, but outside the borders? And as long as the stigma remained, even Camelot wouldn’t always be safe. 

 

“Most seem to at least be open to the idea.” Merlin confirmed. “Besides Alined, everything seems to be going as planned.”

 

“Good.” Mordred paused, looking at Merlin for a moment. “I wouldn’t worry so much about Arthur. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “I can’t afford to let my guard down. If something happened to him… that would be on me.”

 

“Not everything is your responsibility.” Mordred argued. “The world isn’t going to crumble if you turn your back for a moment.”

 

“I can’t take that chance. It’s my destiny to protect him- you know that.” Merlin sighed. “I can’t wait until these talks are over, and the danger is gone.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Arthur would be fine. He had to be. Merlin wouldn’t  _ let _ anything happen to him.

 

Despite Arthur’s request that Merlin see him for the follow up the next day, Merlin found himself searching for the king later that same night. Gwen had seen him leave their chambers with Aithusa, but that had been hours ago, and with the would-be assassin still at large, leaving Arthur alone and unprotected was not a good idea. 

 

It didn’t take too long to find him. The cave was one of the first places Merlin had gone to check, after all. Despite that, he couldn’t help but be a little annoyed with the king. He  _ knew  _ they would be worried about him. He  _ knew  _ it wasn’t a good idea to go off on his own, even with Aithusa with him, but he had done so anyways.

 

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted once he spotted the man in the cave. 

 

Arthur, seemingly startled by the unexpected voice, dropped the torch in his hand. As he was standing on the very edge of the cliff face, the torch ending up falling to the very bottom of the cave floor, leaving them in complete darking.

 

“And you call me the clumsy one.” Merlin sighed.  _ “Leoht.”  _ A blue, glowing light began to fill the space, bringing them out of the darkness. “There.” Merlin glanced at Arthur, who had yet to respond. He was holding himself far more stiffly than before, and his breathing had become heavy. “Arthur?” 

 

Merlin reached out to touch him, only stopping when Arthur violently flinched away. Aithusa landed very suddenly on the cliff face, pressing herself against Arthur’s legs. 

 

“Arthur?” Merlin tried again. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Arthur said quietly, his fists clenched tightly. He looked up at Merlin, growing visibly angry. “I’m fine!” He took in a deep breath. “What do you want?”

 

Merlin hesitated. “No one had seen you in a while. We were getting worried.”

 

“Well, I can assure you I am perfectly alright. No need to worry.”

 

Merlin thought about reaching out again, but stopped himself. “Arthur…”

 

Arthur turned back towards him, face furious. “I said I was fine! Just leave me be!”

 

“Arthur-”

 

“Go!”

 

Merlin took a step away, taken aback by Arthur’s sudden anger. What had he done to spur such rage from him? As much as he didn’t want to leave Arthur in his state, it seemed like speaking to him anymore would only further his rage. He turned slowly, heading towards the entrance of the cave.

 

“Can you leave the light?” Arthur said so quietly that Merlin very nearly didn’t hear him.

 

Merlin gave him a slow nod, leaving the light behind as he walked back up towards Arthur’s chambers. What had caused such a volatile response? Was it because he had startled Arthur? Was it because he had called him clumsy? It wasn’t the first time Merlin had ever insulted the king, so his reaction didn’t make much sense.

 

“Any luck?” Gwen asked as Merlin entered the room.

 

“Yeah.” Merlin said after a moment. “He was in the cave.”

 

Gwen nodded. “Good.”

 

Merlin’s eyes wandered over the room. “Why do you have so many candles?” He hadn’t noticed it until he had searched their chambers, but even then, he hadn’t thought much of it.

 

“We’ve always had candles.” 

 

“Not that many.”

 

Gwen paused, glancing at Merlin hesitantly. “Did something happen?”

 

“Yeah.” Was all Merlin said for several seconds. “Is he alright? I should have asked before. The knights were all fine, so I assumed Arthur was, too.”

 

“Arthur wasn’t given the same treatment as the knights.” Gwen answered. “He’s fine most of the time. Other times… he isn’t.”

 

He should have known. He should have seen it. He had only ever been told that the knights were mostly left alone. He, of course, knew what had happened to Mordred. No one ever told him about Arthur. In truth, he had never asked about Arthur, because why would the Sarrum hurt him? He didn’t have magic. 

 

He should have known.

 

“You keep candles lit at night.”

 

Gwen breathed in slowly. “He doesn’t like the dark.”

 

Merlin ran a hand through his hair. “I should have known something was wrong.”

 

Gwen turned back towards him. “You suffered under Sarrum’s hand as well. It wasn’t your responsibility to make sure he was well. You had yourself to worry about.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “He’s my friend. I should have noticed.”

 

“He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Gwen said, as if that was any consolation. “Even if you had noticed, I’m not sure it would have done anyone any good.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m looking after him. It’ll fade in time, I’m sure. It’s already better than it used to be.” Then what was it like before? Had it been so much worse? “It helps when Aithusa’s there.”

 

“I thought he was okay.” Merlin sat on the bed. “It makes me wonder what else I’ve missed. What if Mordred isn’t as okay as he seems either?” What if he had nightmares like he did? What if he was drowning, and Merlin wasn’t there to help him? He had seen everything the boy had gone through. He had been there for all of it. How could he just assume that Mordred was fine? It wasn’t like with Arthur, where he hadn’t known. He knew. He knew everything, every little detail. What if Merlin had been ignoring the signs because he didn’t want to talk about it? What if he had pushed away any concerns because he was too weak to deal with it?

 

“I’m sure he has his demons as well.” Gwen sat down next to him. “But he has the knights looking out for him. Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Elyan… they take good care of him. Not everything is your responsibility.”

 

“Sometimes it is.”

 

“You’re so worried about Arthur and Mordred…” Gwen squeezed his shoulder. “What about you?”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

 

Gwen nodded. “You were there longer than anyone. And you surely faced most of the Sarrum’s wrath. Are you alright?”

 

“Of course I am.” Merlin gave her a small smile. “I’m always alright.”

 

“You don’t have to be.”

 

“I do right now.” Camelot’s safety rested on his shoulders. What happened to him didn’t matter. Not really. Not when there were people that needed his protection. Arthur’s safety depended on him. Gwen’s safety. The safety of their child. 

 

He couldn’t afford to not be alright. Maybe one day he could be weak, but that day way not today. 


	32. Painful Betrayals

“Merlin!” Mithian’s panicked voice made him turn. 

 

“What is it?” Merlin asked quickly. The hall was deserted, so it was only the two of them standing there.

 

“It’s Arthur!” Merlin’s blood ran cold at her words. “He was attacked in the courtyard. The dragon is hurt.”

 

Merlin took off in a sprint towards the courtyard, and the image that met him was chilling. There were five dead hunting dogs scattered on the ground, each one with large bite wounds across their bodies. Arthur was kneeling on the ground next to Aithusa, who had clearly been bitten more than once by the dogs, as blood was pouring from the wounds.

 

“What happened?!”

 

Arthur looked up at his voice, his eyes wide and panicked. “The dogs showed up out of nowhere. There were going for me. Aithusa stopped them, but she was hurt.”

 

That didn’t make sense. “Your hunting dogs attacked you?”

 

“Something was wrong with them. They had golden eyes- like yours.”

 

“Enchanted…” Merlin whispered. He brushed a hand over Aithusa’s wounds, the dragon letting out a short whimper at the touch. They looked worse than they were- red on white, after all- but it was surely painful. “I can’t heal a dragon’s wounds- that power is beyond me- but I can treat it as I would without magic. Just… hold on. Let me grab some bandages.” Merlin stood back up, running towards Gaius’s quarters. The man himself was in the lower town treating a sudden case of the sweating sickness, so they were on their own. 

 

Again. Some had tried to kill Arthur again. He had swore no more harm would come to Arthur, but he hadn’t even been there to stop it. Merlin barely even noticed Mithian following him as he threw the door open, tearing open one of the cabinets of medicine. 

 

“Merlin.”

 

“They did it again.” Merlin nearly shouted. “They did it again! If Aithusa hadn't been there…”

 

“But she was.”

 

“But what if she hadn’t been!?” This time Merlin did shout, throwing far more anger into his words than Mithian deserved. He grabbed at the bottles, his shaking hands making him drop one of them, the bottle shattering on the ground upon impact. 

 

He was supposed to protect him. He failed. He failed again. He could have died, and it would have been his fault. 

 

Mithian grabbed his arms, forcing him to still. “Just breath, Merlin.”

 

They did it again. They did it again. They did it again.  “I- I can’t.”

 

“Yes, you can.” Mithian said, her voice surprisingly calm among the panic. 

 

Merlin shook his head. “I need to help Aithusa.” It could have been him. Arthur wouldn’t have survived it. The dogs would have killed him. He would have died. You were supposed to protect him. You keep failing to protect him.  _ Why do you keep failing? _

 

Mithian didn’t loosen her hold. If Merlin tried, he could have probably forced his way out of her grip, but he was trembling far too much to even try. “You’re not going to be of help to anyone in this state. Just breath.” Mithian let go of one arm to cup the side of his face with her hand. “Arthur’s fine. Aithusa is going to be fine. Everything is going to be alright.”

 

He’s not dead. He’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s… he’s...

 

Another moment passed, and Merlin let out a choked sob. Mithian pulled him close, allowing him to bury his face in her shoulder. 

 

Mithian ran her fingers through his hair, wrapping her other arm around his torso. “We’ll figure out who’s behind this. No one is going to hurt Arthur. We won’t let them.”

 

Merlin pulled back suddenly, taking a shuddering breath. There wasn’t time for this. He rubbed at his eyes before turning back to the medicine cabinet. He grabbed the bandages and salve he needed and rushed to the courtyard. 

 

He fell to his knees in front of the dragon. Quite a crowd had accumulated in the time he had been away. Gwen was there now, sitting at Arthur’s side. The knights had finally arrived and were attempting to push to crowd back and away from the king.

 

“What took you so long!?” 

 

“Sorry.” It was all Merlin gave in response to Arthur’s question. Arthur had been keeping pressure on the wounds, and fortunately, it seemed that the bleeding had mostly stopped. Merlin opened the container of slave and, after washing away most of the blood, smeared a thin layer across the wound. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Merlin said again when Aithusa make a sound of displeasure at the pain. 

 

“What is that?” Arthur asked, watching Merlin’s every move very closely. 

 

“It’s to help prevent infection.” Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know if she’ll need it, but I’d rather not take any chances. Dog bites can be pretty dangerous.”

 

“She’ll be okay though, right?”

 

Merlin nodded, wrapping the bandage around her torso. “It’ll take a lot more than some hunting dogs to take down a dragon.”

 

“She saved me.” Arthur said after a beat. “They were coming straight for me. If they had gone for the neck like they’re trained to…”

 

Merlin’s eyes darkened. Alined was dead. He was a dead man walking. Merlin didn’t care about the consequences of killing a king. The man had crossed a line. He was going to kill Alined himself. 

 

But not yet.

 

Because right now, Arthur needed him. 

 

But soon. 

 

“How’s Aithusa?” Mithian asked as Merlin made his way back to Gaius’s chambers. 

 

Getting the dragon from the courtyard and back into Arthur’s chambers had not been easy, but they had managed it without causing her too much pain. 

 

“She’s recovering.” The wounds hadn’t been life threatening. Dragons were much harder to kill than that. She would recover soon enough, but she needed to rest- something the energetic dragon didn’t particularly like to do. 

 

Mithian watched as Merlin picked up the pieces of the shattered bottle, placing them in an empty bin. “I’m glad. It was fortunate she was there.”

 

“He doesn’t usually take her out during the day. It’s just a good thing he did, I suppose.” Merlin paused, hesitating for several seconds. “Thank you. For earlier.”

 

“I’ll always be there if you need me.”

 

“You’ve been far too patient with me. Since Amata.” Merlin turned towards her completely, still struggling to make eye contact. “I never properly thanked you for that.”

 

“You don’t need to.” She said without missing a beat. 

 

“Yes.” Merlin sighed. “Yes, I do.” He finally met her eyes. “There were days in the beginning… when I woke up, not knowing where I was. I don’t remember much of it to be honest, but I suppose today wasn’t the first time I’ve cried in your arms.”

 

It took her a moment to respond. “No. It wasn’t.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes, allowing an embarrassed smile to cross his lips. “I’m sorry. It must not have been very pleasant.”

 

“Don’t.” Merlin opened his eyes quickly, not expected the firmness and near anger in her voice. “Don’t you dare apologize. After what happened to you… you’re allowed to cry.”

 

A slightly more genuine smile crossed his lips. He didn’t deserve her kindness. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

“Nor do I.” Mithian said, taking the suddenly lighter mood with stride. “You boys would be a mess without your women.”

 

“You’ve been spending far too much time with Gwen.”

 

Mithian raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer I spend that time with you?”

 

Merlin let out a choked laugh. “Very much so.” His smile fell immediately. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” 

 

The door to Gaius’s chambers opened, and Mordred walked in. “I heard what happened. The dogs were enchanted?”

 

Merlin spared Mithian one last look before turning to Mordred. “Yes. Trickler has struck again.”

 

Mordred shook his head. “It can’t be Trickler. I’m telling you, I haven’t let the man out of my sight for a single moment. I’ve barely even been sleeping. It wasn’t him.”

 

“Then who?”

 

“Odin?”

 

“Surely,” Mithian began, joining the conversation. “Odin would realize he would be the primary suspect if Arthur was assassinated.”

 

Mordred shrugged. “Grief can blind people.”

 

“It would be suicide.”

 

“What if,” Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “What if we’ve got this all wrong? What if it was never Odin or Alined?”

 

Mithian raised an eyebrow. “Who else could it be?

 

The wild card. Of course.

 

Merlin turned towards Mordred. “Go to Arthur. Keep him safe. I’m going to have a chat with Lot.”

 

“Shouldn’t you talk to Arthur first?” Mithian asked, looking concerned at the sudden development.

 

Merlin shook his head. “Arthur will just tell me to wait until there’s proof, and I am done waiting.”

 

“I’ll go with you.”

 

“No.” Merlin turned towards the princess. “Not this time. This isn’t going to be a friendly talk. Please, just stay here and stay safe. If this goes wrong, there’s no reason for you to be caught up in it, too.”

 

Merlin didn’t bother waiting for Mithian’s response, nodding once to Mordred before leaving the room. He headed straight towards where he knew Lot’s chambers to be, opening the door without knocking. The man in question turned immediately upon his entrance. Lot was a slightly larger man with a short, black beard across his chin. He looked very little like his predecessor, but there was a vague resemblance. 

 

“What-?” Lot asked, recognizing Merlin for who he was.

 

“Why did you try to kill Arthur?” The time for beating around the bush was over. 

 

Lot’s eyes darkened at the accusation. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I know it’s you.” Merlin took a step forward. “First the poison, then the hex bag. Now you’re enchanting dogs? What? Do you have sorcerer’s working for you, or do you have magic yourself?”

 

“These accusations are unfounded.” Lot glared at the slightly shorter man.”I’ve had nothing to do with anything you speak of.”

 

“Were you trying to frame, Alined, or was it just luck that we all thought him behind the attacks?”

 

“Enough, boy.”

 

“No.” Merlin snarled. “It’s not enough. You tried to hurt my king, and that is something I cannot forgive. I can assure you, if you had succeeded, you would be dead where you stand.”

 

“You would do well not to threaten me.”

 

“Why Arthur? Hm?” Merlin pressed forward. “Do you want the peace talks to stop, or was this just an excuse to get close enough to kill him once and for all? Some kind of payback for what happened to Cenred?”

 

Lot took a step forward this time, until their faces were inches apart. “I came in peace, and that is all.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Believe what you like.” Lot took a step back. “I saw that druid knight of yours near the dogs earlier today- before the attack. Perhaps you would be wise to consider a traitor in your own court before you start pointing fingers at the rest of us.”

 

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Mordred wouldn’t hurt Arthur.”

 

“Like I said,” Lot turned away from Merlin, taking a sip of wine from the goblet on his table. “Believe what you’d like, but I speak the truth.”

 

Mordred wouldn’t hurt Arthur. There was a time he would have believed it without much convincing, but now? No. 

 

It didn’t stop Merlin from running from the room and straight to Arthur. Lot was lying. He was trying to cover his own tracks. He wanted enough time to escape. Merlin should go back. But he couldn’t. Not until he knew Arthur was safe. Not until he knew he hadn’t just sent Arthur’s would-be murderer to protect him.

 

The sound of clashing swords make Merlin’s heart drop into his stomach. The two guards stationed outside the room were both dead, blood flowing freely from identical sword wounds through their guts.

 

Merlin didn’t even bother to take note of the scene before flinging the doors open and using his magic to pin Mordred against the wall. Both Arthur and Mordred had their swords drawn and were panting from exertion. They had been fighting. 

 

Mordred had tried to kill him. 

 

He looked Arthur up and down, checking for wounds, and let out a sigh of relief when none were found. Arthur looked just as confused as Merlin, glancing between the two of them. Merlin only spared a brief thought towards Aithusa, who would have still been resting, most likely asleep, in the antechambers.

 

“You promised.” Merlin turned back towards Mordred, rage burning inside him. “You promised! You swore to me you wouldn’t… why…”

 

Mordred fought against the spell, but Merlin was furious and hurt and that only fueled his power.

 

“Why…” Merlin nearly whispered, sorrow overtaking the rage for just a moment, before flashing back stronger than ever. He had trusted Mordred. He had confided in him. He had ensured Arthur’s safety to him. 

 

Mordred had betrayed him, and more importantly, he had betrayed their king. 

 

Merlin’s fist closed, and with it, so did Mordred’s throat. “Tell me! Why?” Mordred couldn’t respond even if he wanted to, unable to bring enough air into his lungs to say a single word- much less give an explanation. “Tell me!”

 

“Merlin.” It was Arthur’s voice now, approaching from behind. “Stop.”

 

Merlin glanced at him, incredulous. “He tried to kill you!”

 

Mordred’s eyes were beginning to close. The lack of air would kill him soon enough. 

 

“Yes.” Arthur agreed. “And he will be dealt with accordingly, but not by your hand. Don’t do this. Please.” Arthur was pleading- begging. Arthur never begged.

 

Merlin opened his fist, letting the boy fall to the ground. He was unconscious, but not dead. Not yet. He took a step back, heaving in heavy breaths. “I’m sorry. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew I wasn’t supposed to…”

 

Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder. “He fooled us all Merlin. The fault does not lie with you.”

 

That’s where Arthur was wrong. It would always be his fault.

 

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Guys. Guys. Have I ever led you astray? Just... trust me, fam. Okie dokie?


	33. Together We Heal

“Why is Mordred in the cells?” Mithian asked once she noticed the familiar man sitting in her chambers. 

 

Merlin had already been in Mithian’s quarters when she arrived. He had been there for nearly half an hour, waiting for her. There would have been consequences if her father had entered instead of her, but Merlin couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

“It wasn’t Alined. Or Odin. Or Lot.” Merlin forced himself to look up at Mithian, still standing by the door. “It was Mordred. It was Mordred all along.”

 

“But why? Mordred has always seemed very fond of Arthur.” Mithian walked towards him, eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. “And after repealing the ban on magic, what possible reason could he have for wishing him any harm?”

 

“I don’t know.” Merlin rubbed at his eyes. “But I saw him. He attacked Arthur- tried to kill him in his own chambers.”

 

“Arthur is alright though, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin looked back down to his hands. “I spent over two months in a cell with him. I thought I knew him. I thought I could trust him.”

 

Mithian sat herself down on the bed next to him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. “I’m sorry. I know you cared for him.”

 

“I didn’t once. I didn’t trust him before. There was a time I would have been glad to see him executed. I always believed he would kill Arthur, or at least try to. That’s what the prophecy said.” Merlin closed his eyes. “After Amata, after Morgana’s death… I thought I had defied the prophecy. I thought I knew better. I was so arrogant.”

 

Mithian pulled back, forcing him to look at her. “Not arrogant. Kind.”

 

Merlin snorted humorlessly. “My kindness nearly got Arthur killed.”

 

“But it didn’t.” Mithian cupped his cheek with her hand. “Arthur still breaths. Mordred did not succeed.”

 

“I thought he was my friend.” Merlin pressed his face into her shoulder. The position felt far more natural than it should have. “I thought… I thought…”

 

“I know.” Mithian whispered, soothingly. “I know.”

 

Merlin pulled back to look at her, then pressed his lips against hers. There was no thought it in. No rationale. No concerns. No hesitation. It didn’t matter if it could never happen again. Merlin couldn’t even bring himself to care if they were caught. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing at all. 

 

She returned the kiss without question. This was wrong. Nothing could ever come of it. Mithian would leave, and he would be alone. 

 

Arthur was closed off to him. He pretended to accept him and his magic, but yet he couldn’t even stand to have Merlin serving him- only allowing him to do so on ceremonial occasions. Arthur didn’t mind magic. That much was obvious. He had no problem with Aithusa or any other sorcerer. It was just Merlin. He had lied to him for so long... Arthur would never truly forgive him. He pretended to, but he hadn’t. Not really. 

 

The Mordred he thought he had known was gone. The boy had lied and manipulated him. He had betrayed him. Mordred was the only one who had ever understood him. He too had been forced to live a lie. He had faced the Sarrum’s wrath. He had faced the bigotry of those who hated their kind. He had been the only one to truly understand, but now that was gone, too. 

 

Gaius didn’t understand. Despite the ban being lifted, he had yet to begin using magic again. He didn’t want to. He did use spells on rare occasions, but he seemed far more content using his herbal remedies as he had been for the last twenty years. Perhaps he didn’t want to associate himself with such a hated people. With Merlin’s people. 

 

So many in Camelot feared him because of something he could never control. No matter what he did or didn’t do, they would still wish nothing but a fiery death upon him. The knights didn’t tease him the same way they used to. They were careful around him. They didn’t even let him leave the castle by himself. Merlin had always assumed it was because they were worried about him, after the Sarrum, but perhaps they were only worried about what he might do if left unsupervised. What river would he poison? What crops would he burn? What plague would he create?

 

They were scared of him. Like Arthur, they pretended that they weren’t. But they were. Everyone was. 

 

Mithian was all he had, but she would leave, too. She had to. And then he would be alone. 

 

He didn’t leave her chambers that night, nor did she ask him to. It wasn’t until morning, when Merlin awoke in the unfamiliar bed, did he realize the gravity of his mistake. He turned his head towards her- still fast asleep. Princesses didn’t wake up as early as servants after all. 

 

And she  _ was  _ a princess. And he a servant.

 

Merlin slipped out of the bed as quietly as he could, giving the sleeping Mithian one last glance before fleeing the room, hoping more than anything that no one would see him leave. 

 

Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers hours later, desperate to remove the memory of last night from his mind. It was not an unpleasant memory, but it had been a mistake. A cruel one. Mithian didn’t deserve to be toyed with like that- to be treated in such a manner.

 

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked after a long moment, checking over Aithusa’s wounds. They were healing nicely, and the bandages would be removed soon enough.

 

“I’m fine.” Arthur said, though he clearly didn’t give the question much thought.

 

“Have you spoken to Mordred at all?” Merlin himself had been unable to bring himself to visit the friend turned traitor. It was still far too difficult to wrap his head around.

 

“Not yet.” Arthur answered. “I don’t understand. I’ve tried to make Camelot safer for his kind. For your kind. What did I do wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Then why do they hate me?” 

 

Merlin sighed softly. “I don’t know, but that’s Mordred’s problem. Not yours.” The betrayal had obviously hit Arthur hard. He was a knight. A brother in arms. And he had tried to kill him. Merlin hesitated for a moment.  “Gwen said you slept in the antechambers last night. With Aithusa.”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment. “She shouldn’t have told you that.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “I forced it out of her. She’s worried about you.”

 

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about, I can assure you.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes!” Arthur yelled, before closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. “Look. Aithusa was hurt. I just wanted to be there. In case…”

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “In case what?”

 

“Just in case.”

 

“Arthur…”

 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you!” And there was that fury again. That bubbling rage. It used to be much harder to rile him up like that. 

 

Merlin couldn’t help but question it. “Why are you angry?” 

 

“I’m not!” It wasn’t very convincing. “You’re just-” Arthur let out a short sigh. “It doesn’t matter.” 

 

It was clear he wanted the subject to change. It was too bad Merlin didn’t particularly care about what Arthur wanted to talk about at the moment. “I think it does.”

 

“I don’t give a damn what you think.” This was less angry, but there was a cruelty behind it. He wanted the words to hurt him. Well, too bad.

 

“Arthur…” Merlin tried, but Arthur didn’t seem inclined to listen.

 

“Just leave.”

 

Merlin stood, shaking his head. “No. Do you think it’s a secret? You think I haven’t noticed?”

 

“Noticed what?”

 

“You have candles all over your chambers.” Merlin gestured with his hands. “I know for a fact you keep them on at night. And when you dropped that torch in the cave-”

 

Arthur’s eyes darkened. “Stop.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” Merlin assured him. “If it makes you feel safer to have light-”

 

Merlin didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence before a fist made contact with his face. “I said stop!” Merlin fell to the ground upon impact, looking up at Arthur’s fury. The anger faded within seconds, leaving only guilt in the king’s features. “I’m sorry. I…”

 

Merlin waved him off, making his way back to his feet. “It’s okay.”

 

“No, it really isn’t.” Arthur turned away from him as he stood. 

 

“You know I don’t judge you, right?” Merlin tried, again, taking a step closer to him. “I asked Mithian a bit about where you were being held, so I get it.”

 

“You don’t need a light.” Arthur’s voice was pathetically quiet- a way Merlin had never heard it before.

 

“I wasn’t kept in pitch black darkness. There wasn’t a lot of light, but it was still there. From what I’ve heard, you weren’t given the same luxury.”

 

“They tortured you.” It was the same, quiet voice. 

 

Merlin raised an eyebrow. Where exactly was Arthur going with this? “Yes. I’m aware.”

 

“They didn’t touch me.”

 

“I think I would have rather been flogged then kept in the dark for two months.”

 

“Stop.” Arthur said with such authority that even Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to disobey. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be like this.” Merlin’s eyes flickered down to Arthur’s hands, which were shaking very slightly. “I’m the king. I’m the king… and I’m afraid of the dark.”

 

It looked like it took everything he had just to admit that, even if Merlin already knew. “No one thinks less of you, Arthur. We all have our issues right now.”

 

“No. You really don’t.”

 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

 

Arthur finally turned back towards his, his eyes bloodshot red. “You’ve been fine since the moment you came back to Camelot. You were tortured. You were there even longer than I was, and you’re fine. And I’m not. I should be…”

 

For a moment, Merlin wasn’t quite sure if he was hearing Arthur’s words correctly. “You think I’m fine? You…” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You think I don’t wake up from nightmares every other night? You think Mithian didn’t sleep on the floor in my room for the first week I was back so she could calm me when I woke up screaming? I’m… I’m not  _ okay _ . I- I get flashbacks, and sometimes I zone out thinking about everything that happened until someone can snap me out of it. 

 

Merlin let out an incredulous laugh. “Mithian hasn’t stayed as long as she has because she likes Camelot! She stayed because I can’t  _ cope  _ without her. Because I can’t function in my day to day life on my own.” Merlin sucked in a breath through his nose. “And now the only person who was there with me in all that has turned against us, and I… I don’t know what to do. But to say I’m fine? To say I’m okay? I’m not  _ fine _ .” Merlin closed his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be  _ fine _ .”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything for several seconds, and Merlin began to wonder if he went too far. But then he finally spoke. “I didn’t know.”

 

Merlin took in another long breath. “I didn’t tell you.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur looked away at that questioned. “Exactly.”  _ I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to feel guilty. I didn’t want you to think I was weak.  _

 

“There was a girl.” Arthur began after a moment. “Annabelle. When you were looking for Aithusa, she was accused of having magic. I wasn’t going to kill her, obviously, but Merek went behind my back. He put her through trial by ordeal. The wound got infected. She died.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Merlin said quietly. 

 

“I promised I would protect her, and I failed. I promised you the same thing once.” Arthur let out a humorless laugh. “Seems like I’m making a habit of this.”

 

Merlin shook his head. “You can’t blame what happened to either of us on yourself.”

 

“I can’t  _ not  _ blame myself.” Arthur sighed. “Thus what it means to be king, I suppose.”

 

“You aren’t alone, you know. You have us. The whole world isn’t on your shoulders. You can share the load.” Merlin looked down for a moment, closing his eyes, before looking back up at Arthur. “You are a great king, no matter what anyone else might tell you. You are the greatest king this land has ever known. Just like I knew you would be.”

 

“I appreciate that.” Arthur said quietly. “I only wish Mordred felt the same way.”

 

Mordred. It all came back to him. It made no sense- not a single bit of it. There was no reason for Mordred to hate Arthur. No reason at all. And the promise he had made to Merlin had seemed sincere. The boy had nearly cried upon the revelation that he would do the king harm. 

 

And the assassination attempts- at least the first two- were just… bad. Mordred was smarter than that. He had a good head on his shoulders. Why try to assassinate the king if he wasn’t going to put any effort in it. Why? 

 

It reminded Merlin, in a way, to his own assassination attempts once. He didn’t remember any of them, of course, but from what Gaius and Gwen had told him, he had done pretty shabby job of it. Almost as if the enchantment had made him think less clearly. 

 

Oh.

 

Trickler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. There. Has everyone calmed down now?  
> Did you really think I was gonna make Mordred a traitor? My baby druid boy?


	34. An Admittance of Guilt

The was no longer any time for waiting. There was no time to follow the proper procedures- if there even were proper procedures for this kind of thing. And there sure as hell wasn’t time to ask for Arthur’s permission. A man’s life was at stake, and Merlin had already falsely accused one king of attempted murder. What was one more?

 

Merlin grabbed the collar of Trickler’s jacket without warning, yanking him into the empty guest quarters, and locking the door behind him. 

 

“What-”

 

“Lift your enchantment off of Mordred.” There was no time for games. And Merlin was so very tired of these games. 

 

Trickler didn’t seem to agree. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

 

If there was any doubt in his mind before, it was gone completely. The man was a horrible liar. Merlin dug his fingers into the front of Trickler’s shirt, pulling him towards him. “You have tried to kill my king several times now through one of his own knights, which has in turn made me very cross.”

 

Trickler’s hands went up to his own shirt in an attempt to peel Merlin’s fingers off of him, but Merlin’s grip was firm. “I- I am very sorry to hear about your knight’s treason, but you mustn’t blame me for it. I am completely innocent!”

 

“You know what I have here? In this empty room at the end of abandoned hallway?” If at all possible, his grip tightened. “No witnesses.” Trickler visibly swallowed. “So I suggest you become a bit more cooperative. Before things get messy.” 

 

Even Merlin wasn’t sure if he was bluffing or not, but Trickler didn’t seem willing to take the chance. “Master Alined will kill me if I tell you anything.” Trickler said, finally dropping the charade.

 

“I’ll kill you if you refuse me.” Again, Merlin wasn’t sure if he’d go through with that threat, but he was angry enough at the moment to consider it.

 

“I only do as my master commands. No more.” Trickler begged, becoming more and more desperate. 

 

“I am aware.” Merlin finally loosened his grip on his shirt. “If you help me here, I can protect you. Magic is free in Camelot now. You don’t have to return to Deorham.” It wasn’t so the last time he was here, but it was now, and that was all that mattered.

 

Trickler hesitated. “I cannot remove the enchantment.”

 

Merlin’s eyes darkened. “Can’t or won’t?”

 

“Can’t!” Trickler pleaded. “It was never meant to be removed. It was always assumed that the knight would be executed after killing the king.”

 

“Every spell has a way to reverse it.” Merlin took a step forward, forcing to Trickler to walk backwards. “You’re lying.”

 

“I’m not! I swear to you.” Trickler sighed. “Master Alined knew your king had a sorcerer, so he made me find a spell with no cure.”

 

“There’s no such thing.”

 

“True.” Trickler nodded. “But the cure for this spell requires certain ingredients you will never be able to find.”

 

“Like what?” Merlin asked, growing annoyed.

 

“Like… tears of a griffon?” Trickler cringed backwards, preparing for Merlin’s rage. “Pixie dust?”

 

“Tears… of a griffon?” Was he serious? How the  _ hell  _ was he supposed to get that? “Where am I going to find a griffon?”

 

“That is why I chose the spell. There is no way for you to reverse it.” He looked mildly pleased with himself until he realized who he was talking to.

 

“We’ll see about that.” Merlin unlocked the door, flagging down the first guard he could find. “Arrest him. Take him to the cells.”

 

The guards hesitated. They weren’t actually supposed to take orders from Merlin. He was a servant. He didn’t have the authority to arrest people. After a moment, the guards complied, grabbing Trickler’s arms. Perks of being feared by half of Camelot- people didn’t like to tell you no. 

 

“What are you doing?!” Trickler cried. “I told you everything I knew!”

 

“Keeping you safe. Alined can hardly touch you in the cells, now can he?” 

 

Trickler seemed terribly torn by the turn of the events as he was dragged away. 

 

There was a certain amount of relief from the revelation. Mordred was indeed enchanted. Mordred hadn’t betrayed them. He hadn’t lied to Merlin. But at the same time, there was apparently no feasible way to reverse the enchantment.  

 

Arthur seemed even less hopeful than Merlin did once he explained the situation to him in Gaius’s chambers. “So… Mordred is enchanted?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin said quickly. “By Trickler.”

 

“But there’s no way to reverse it?”

 

Merlin flipped a page through the book of enchantments. “So he says, but I’m not taking his word on that one.”

 

Arthur sighed. “Where is Trickler right now?”

 

“In the cells. I had him arrested.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You can’t have people arrested.”

 

“Yeah, well, apparently I can.” Merlin leaned back in the chair, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I already went down to Mordred’s cell. I’ve tried every spell I can think of. I searched his quarters- there weren’t any poultices or anything that might even remotely be connected to an enchantment.”

 

“Are you certain he’s under an enchantment?” Finding out Mordred had not been acting of his own volition had been a cause for celebration, but the chances of a cure seemed to be dwindling by the second. 

 

“Trickler admitted to enchanting him.” There was no doubt in his mind that Trickler was telling the truth- at least in that matter. There was no reason to lie about that. “And it explains why all the assassination attempts were so poorly done.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “How?”

 

Merlin turned back to his book, flipping to the next page. “I just know I did a pretty bad job when I was enchanted to kill you.”

 

“When were you enchanted to kill me?!”

 

“Years ago. It’s a long story.” Merlin said dismissively. “What if it was a ritual? Like the Teine Diaga?”

 

“Trickler wouldn’t have had the time to do such a thing.” Gaius piped in the first time. “And you would have sensed it if it happened nearby.”

 

“So it has to be a spell.”

 

“A spell,” Arthur began. “We can’t break.”

 

Merlin didn’t say anything for a moment. “I can think of one way to break it.”

 

Arthur sat up, immediately interested. “How?”

 

“Kill Trickler.”

 

Arthur shook his head. “You said so yourself- this is Alined, not Trickler. I’d be like if Odin executed you for what happened in Nemeth.”

 

“That was still my choice.” Merlin argued. “Even if I was working under your orders- I could have refused.”

 

“Something tells me Trickler didn’t have the same luxury.”

 

“Well, I don’t know how else to break the enchantment.” Merlin closed the book, growing frustrated. “Are you going to have Alined arrested?”

 

Arthur nodded. “Yes. But not yet. I think I’ll bring it up during the next meeting. With Trickler’s confession, I have enough evidence to arrest him and his men. The other monarchs won’t be able to argue it.”

 

“That’s assuming Alined doesn’t get suspicious of Trickler’s disappearance before then.”

 

“You probably shouldn’t have had him arrested just yet.”

 

“If I hadn’t,” Merlin began defensively. “He would have gone back to Alined and told him everything.”

 

“I don’t believe Alined will want to bring Trickler to anyone’s attention.” Gaius reasoned. “He works best unnoticed. Alined will not want to give that up, even if he goes missing.”

 

“Let us hope that is true.” Arthur’s disappointed eyes suddenly turned confused. “What is that?” Before Merlin had a chance to respond, Arthur snatched the book he had been reading away from him. He looked closely at the cover, confusion turning to fury. “This is one of the books of dark magic that Geoffrey showed us when you first started learning!”

 

“I’m trying to fix Mordred.” Merlin said defensively. “What does it matter?”

 

“What does it matter?!” Arthur stared at him incredulously. “Dark magic corrupts! You know that!”

 

Merlin stood, refusing to be berated like a child. “I’m hardly going to start using black magic left and right, but if that’s what it takes to get Mordred back, then that’s what I’ll do.”

 

“I told you not to touch these!”

 

“Do you want Mordred to be lost forever! I was just looking for a different way to reverse the spell, and if I couldn’t…”

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

 

“Then I need to make sure killing Trickler will reverse the enchantment.” Merlin said quickly. “It’s not impossible to make a spell that lasts after death, but if you kill them in a certain way-”

 

“You were reading a book of dark magic in order to kill someone.” Arthur said flatly. “Merlin. This is… no. No, I won’t let you do this. I’m sorry about Mordred- I want him to come back to us, too- but this is going too far.”

 

“Where are you going?” Merlin asked as the other man began to leave the room.

 

Arthur turned only his head towards him. “To make sure Alined isn’t causing any trouble. And to destroy  _ this _ .” He held the book up briefly, closing the door behind him before the other man could protest. 

 

Merlin turned back to the table with a huff, opening a different book. “I don’t know if I can fix this.” He said more to himself than Gaius.

 

“Merlin.” Gaius said slowly. “You should know better than to play with the dark arts.”

 

“Trickler gave me no choice.”

 

Gaius walked over towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mordred’s life in not on a time limit. As long as he is guarded, he can do Arthur no more harm. In time, you will find your solution.”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

If Alined noticed Trickler’s absence, he said nothing. Perhaps Gaius was right. Alined wanted Trickler to stay out of everyone’s notice- pointing out his disappearance would only bring attention to him. It wouldn’t matter for much longer anyways. 

 

“There is one matter that must be discussed before we continue.” Arthur said, addressing the rest of the monarchs sat at the table. “Many of you are aware that I was attacked by enchanted hunting dogs in the courtyard. Before that, there was a hex bag found under the pillow in my chambers. And before that, I was poisoned at the welcoming feast.” There were some looks of confusion at that. “There was no allergic reaction as I claimed. It was a murder attempt

 

“I didn’t wish to bring these assassination attempts to light without knowing who was responsible, as I feared they would only disrupt the peace these talks are meant to achieve. However, I now know who is responsible.

 

Arthur seemed to make a point to look away from Alined. “Three nights ago, one of my own knights attacked me in my chambers. That knight is responsible for the previous attempts on my life. However, this is not a matter of treason. It has been revealed that he was, and still is, under the influence of an enchantment, placed on him by King Alined’s jester, Trickler.”

 

Alined had slowly gone pale as Arthur continued to talk, but recovered quickly. “This is absurd. Trickler is no sorcerer. You merely accuse me because of my opposing views.”

 

“Trickler has already confessed to enchanting the boy- under your orders.” Arthur was surprisingly calm given the circumstances.

 

Alined’s face went red. “He’s lying! Perhaps he has magic, but it has always been a secret from me. I would never allow him to use such a thing.”

 

“Like you didn’t have him enchant me and the Lady Vivian with a love spell the last time you were in Camelot.” Olaf’s head jerked towards Arthur’s at that comment. He had obviously still been unaware of the reasoning behind his daughter’s sudden feelings. “I have been made aware of your attempts to provoke war in the past. I had hoped you would come to these talks without such a desire to do so again, but I always knew it was a possibility.

 

“In light of these revelations, I would like to take Alined and his men into custody. Under the conditions of these peace talks, I can only do so if the group agrees to it as a whole. Are there any who would oppose such actions being taken?”

 

No one spoke.

 

“Very well.” Arthur nodded towards Alined. “Guards.”

 

“You cannot do this! I am innocent!” Alined struggled as the guards hauled him out of his seat. “I knew nothing of his sorcery! Nothing!”

 

Merlin watched as the guards dragged Alined out of the room, the man proclaiming his innocence the entire way. Merlin’s eyes met Mithian’s briefly, and she raised her eyebrows in question. He nodded slightly to reply. Yes. Yes he would explain all of this later in greater detail. 

 

He would have told her before hand, but he had been far too busy trying, and failing, to find a way to lift the enchantment off of Mordred. There was also the fact that they hadn’t actually spoken since he had woken up in her bed. 

 

“With that concluded,” Arthur said after a brief moment. “Let us get back to the topic at hand.”


	35. To Be a Savior

“So Mordred is enchanted?” Mithian asked, not even blinking as Merlin let himself into her chambers. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s good isn’t it?” She patted the bed next to her, inviting him to join her there. “But why is he still enchanted? Why haven’t you reversed it?”

 

“According to Trickler, there is no way to reverse it.” Merlin sat himself down next to her. The position was far too familiar. “At least no feasible way.”

 

Mithian’s face slowly fell. “So there’s nothing you can do?”

 

“There is one thing.” Merlin said after a beat. “Kill Trickler. Kill the spellcaster, and the spell will break.”

 

Mithian’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But I thought Arthur said Trickler was only working under Alined’s orders? You can’t just kill him.”

 

“Should I just leave Mordred enchanted then? Should I kill Mordred instead?” Merlin turned his head towards her. Why did no one understand what he was trying to do? “Someone is going to die. I could kill Mordred, because he isn’t going to stop trying to kill the king, and it’s only a matter of time before he escapes. Or I could kill Trickler, the one who enchanted him. You tell me. Who deserves it more?”

 

“Merlin.”

 

“Look. I don’t want to kill either of them, but if it comes down to that or leaving Mordred enchanted, I will do what I have to do.”

 

“And what would Arthur say?” Mithian sat up straighter under his gaze. “What would he think of you? To kill a man in cold blood.”

 

“I won’t abandon Mordred.” He wouldn't. He couldn’t.

 

“Merlin.” Mithian tried again, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are not a killer.”

 

“You’re wrong.” Merlin shook his head, breaking eye contact. “You haven’t the first idea of the things I’ve done. I started killing years ago, and I never stopped. I don’t even think about it anymore. Some bandit comes at Arthur from behind, and suddenly a tree branch snaps and breaks his neck.”

 

“That’s different.”

 

“What do you think I did when I destroyed the Saxon army?” Merlin still couldn’t look at her- didn’t want to see the look on her face when she realized the kind of man he truly was. “I disintegrated them. Thousands of them. They couldn’t have fought back- not against me. They couldn’t outrun me. I slaughtered them.” Merlin closed his eyes. “Maybe I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I’ve ended far too many lives at this point to care anymore.”

 

“I know you, Merlin.”

 

“No.” Merlin finally looked up at her. “You think you do. You think you know me, but you don’t. You haven’t seen all the things I’ve done. No one has.” If she had, she would fear him, too. Just like everyone else did. 

 

“You’re right.” Mithian said after a moment. “I haven’t. But I know your heart, and there is no evil in there.” She reached up, cupping his cheek and caressing her thumb across his cheekbone. “You are a good man, Merlin. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

 

Merlin let out a long breath. “Why do we keep doing this? It would be easier in the end if we just pretended the other didn’t exist. This is only going to make it harder.”

 

“Probably.” Mithian nodded. “But sometimes the most precious things in life are the things that don’t last. Losing it hurts, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it while it was still here.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes once again. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

 

“I know that. I’ve always known that- because you are a good man.” Mithian’s tone took on a suddenly serious note. “Listen to me, Merlin. Don’t let a man like Alined turn you into a monster.”

 

“I don’t know what else to do.” Merlin said in a quiet voice.

 

“Do what you’ve always been meant to.” Mithian gave him a gentle smile, one of her hands folding into his own. “Be their savior.”

 

Minutes later, without warning, Merlin swung open the doors to Arthur’s chambers. Arthur, Gwen, and Aithusa looked up at the sudden entrance, Arthur quickly growing annoyed. “Merlin…”

 

“I think I know how to reverse the enchantment on Mordred.”

 

This immediately peaked Arthur’s interest, and the previous irritation faded away. “What? How?”

 

“Kilgharrah.” Merlin answered quickly. “His magic is different. Just because mine can’t heal him doesn’t mean his can’t. We just need to get Mordred to the field.”

 

“He isn’t going to go willingly.” Gwen added.

 

“I never said I’d be giving him a choice in the matter.” Merlin turned towards Arthur. “Mithian’s trying to see if she can convince Mordred to go- that’s he’s enchanted- but I wouldn’t count on it.”

 

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Mithian?”

 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Merlin beckoned towards the door. “Come on.”

 

Arthur left with Merlin, Gwen opting to stay behind with Aithusa. They made their way to the dungeons quickly enough to see Mithian at the bars of Mordred’s cell, speaking softly. She looked up upon their entrance, sighing, and backing away. 

_ “Tóspringe.”  _ Merlin unlocked the cell, not even bothering to take the keys Arthur was in the process of handing him. He walked inside, holding out a pair of manacles.

 

“Merlin? What are you doing?” Mordred backed away as he entered the cell. He sounded so genuine that it actually hurt. 

 

“Helping you.”

 

Mordred raised an eyebrow. “You think those will be able to hold me?”

 

“I’ve enchanted them.” Merlin replied easily. “You won’t be able to break them open. A little trick I learned after being bound by unbreakable chains and left for the serkets.”

 

“What?” Arthur asked, clearly confused by the reference.

 

“Long story.” He’d have to tell Arthur all these stories one day, but now was not the time. “Now, are you going to allow me to put them on you, or are you going to make this more difficult than it has to be.”

 

“I have no quarrel with you, Merlin.” Mordred said slowly. “Only that vile man you call a king.” Ah. So the enchantment only made Mordred hate Arthur. Interesting. 

 

“Will you let my bind you?” Merlin asked once again, sighing when Mordred made no move to comply. He threw up his hand, pinning the druid against the wall. The druid tried to struggle against Merlin’s spell, but it was no use, and Merlin was able to pull his hands into the manacles with ease. Once bound, Merlin dropped the spell, letting him fall to the ground.

 

“Merlin, you must listen to me.” Mordred looked up at Merlin, his hands now chained in front of him. “I’m sorry for lying to you, but I had no choice. He’ll turn on you. He will. He has slaughtered thousands of our kind. He only pretends to accept us. He uses you, and when you are no longer of use to him, he’ll kill you as well. Please, just listen to me.”

 

Merlin crouched down next to him. “I know that is what you believe, but it is not true. Whatever spell this is, it isn’t just controlling your actions. It’s controlling your mind. Mordred- the real Mordred- would know Arthur is not capable of something like that.”

 

“It is you who is blinded to the truth.” Mordred said, and Merlin grabbed his arm, pulling him into a standing position. “I know you are a good man, Merlin. Don’t let him manipulate you. He has already turned you against me. Who will be next?”

 

Merlin didn’t respond. There was no point. He grabbed at the chain connecting the manacles, and pulled Mordred out of the cell. 

 

Mordred turned towards Arthur as he and Merlin passed by him. “Your time is coming, sire. Your tyranny cannot continue forever. The world will not allow it.”

 

“Your words might hurt if they were genuine, but I know the real Mordred. He would never wish me any harm.” Arthur said calmly, and Merlin yanked the boy away from the king until he was at the front of the group. 

 

Merlin continued to push him forward until they left the dungeons, doing their best to avoid any and all people as they made their way out of the castle. Very few people knew the identity of the traitorous knight, and both Merlin and Arthur preferred to keep it that way. There was no reason for his reputation to be tarnished by the allegations considering the circumstances.

 

They made their way to the clearing, Merlin making a point to summon a light above them. It was dark, but not so dark he couldn’t see the way in front of him. Though Arthur didn’t acknowledge it, he looked grateful. 

 

Merlin paused once they reached the clearing, still holding onto Mordred’s chains. “ _ O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!” _

 

Merlin glanced backwards briefly to see Mithian staring at him wide eyed.

Arthur smiled slightly. “You’ve never seen it before, have you?”

 

“The dragon or the… yelling?” Mithian asked, her eyes never leaving Merlin.

 

“Yelling?” Merlin questioned indignantly. It was certainly  _ not  _ yelling. 

 

“Both.” Arthur answered, ignoring Merlin’s comment. 

 

“It’s not yelling.” Merlin tried.

 

“Yes it is.” Arthur looked back towards him, looking faintly amused.

 

“It’s dragon tongue!”

 

“Yes.” Arthur agreed. “And you yelled the dragon tongue.”

 

“It  _ was _ quite loud.” Mithian added almost as an afterthought.

 

The king shook his head. “How did you do this before without anyone noticing?”

 

“I’m discreet.”

 

“Not exactly the word I would have used.”

 

Before Merlin could respond, Kilgharrah appeared overhead, landing at their feet. He looked over the group once more before turning towards Merlin. “You bring new faces every time you call for me nowadays. Is this a pattern I should expect to continue?”

 

“Oh.” Merlin gestured towards Mithian. “This is Mithian. Princess Mithian. Of Nemeth.”

 

“Indeed.” Kilgharrah said, looking disinterested. Instead his eyes fell on the bound Mordred. “And I see the druid boy has betrayed you, as I knew he would.”

 

“No, no, no. That’s not what happened.” Merlin said, and then pointed towards the druid. “He’s enchanted.”

 

“Yes. I can feel it within him.”

 

At least he would not have to convince the dragon of that. “Can you lift it?” Merlin asked hopefully.

 

“Perhaps.” Kilgharrah said simply. “But at what cost?”

 

“I… I’m sorry?” Merlin raised an eyebrow.

 

“It would be best to kill the boy now, while you still have the chance.”

 

Arthur grew visibly furious at that comment. “How dare you. Mordred is a loyal knight.”

 

“One destined to end your life.”

 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows at that. “What are you talking about?”

 

Kilgharrah gave Merlin a pointed look. Merlin closed his eyes and slowly turned towards Arthur, hesitating for several seconds. “There was a prophecy… that Mordred was meant to kill you. But he defied it. Mordred is no longer destined for that path.”

 

“Yet, of all the knights, it was he who became enthralled.” Kilgharrah interjected.

 

“That was my fault.” Merlin argued, turning back to Kilgharrah. “I asked Mordred to keep an eye on Trickler. I put them together. It could have been any knight.”

 

“Yet it was not.” Kilgharrah lowered his head towards Merlin. “Destiny finds a way through even the thickest defenses. The only way to truly end his destiny is to kill him. I have told you this many times now.”

 

“Kill an innocent boy because of a predetermined path?” Mithian spoke up.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you think that’s right?”

 

“It is cutting the ivy to save the tree. No more.”

 

“No.” Arthur said finally. “No. My life isn’t worth more than his.”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong. Your life has been foretold. The things you will accomplish-”

 

“To live is meaningless if it is only because of the death of another.” Arthur interrupted. “Reverse the spell. Fix him.”

 

Kilgharrah stared at the king. “You cannot command me, Once and Future King.”

 

“I know I can’t, but he can.” Arthur turned to Merlin. “Order him to heal Mordred.”

 

Merlin’s eyes fell closed briefly before he finally met Kilgharrah gaze. “I have no desire to force you to do anything. I believe you when you say Mordred was destined for evil, but I know that that time has come and gone. Morgana’s influence cannot touch him. I told him of his destiny, and he wanted nothing to do with it. He swore to me to never do the king any harm, and I trust him. I trust that promise.

 

Merlin glanced at the still chained Mordred. “I will not order you to heal him. I abused that power once before, and I will not do so again. But I beg of you. My kin. Bring him back to us. Please.”

 

For several seconds, nothing happened. No one spoke. Merlin wasn’t quite sure what he would do if Kilgharrah refused. He couldn’t abandon Mordred when he had the ability to force the dragon’s will, but it also seemed so wrong to do so.

 

“Very well.” Kilgharrah said at last. “Bring the boy to me.”

 

A wave of relief passed through Merlin as he dragged Mordred towards Kilgharrah. He pushed Mordred to his knees, only to prevent him from running, and stepped back.

 

Mordred looked up at the dragon, unphased by the great beast before him. “I will kill the king. I will not rest until my job is done.”

 

“Then you shall do so of your own volition, and we will all bare the consequences.” And with that, Kilgharrah began to breathe fire against the bound druid. For a moment, Merlin thought Kilgharrah had lied and was going to kill Mordred, but then the fire faded, leaving the druid unharmed. “The enchantment has been lifted. The boy’s mind is his own once again.”

 

Merlin ran forward, placing a hand on the now unconscious Mordred’s shoulder. He looked up at Kilgharrah. “Thank you.”

 

“I do hope you will not regret this.”

 

Merlin looked back down to Mordred. “So do I.” 

 

Kilgharrah took off once more, flying into the air until he was soon out of sight.

 

Arthur took a step forward. “Is he?”

 

“He’s fine.” Merlin said, glancing back at both Arthur and Mithian. “He’s back.”

 

It was done. It was finally over. 


	36. A New Destiny

Mordred was still unconscious when he was taken back to his chambers. Arthur placed him on his bed, giving him a long look before turning and leaving the room. He would be fine- Merlin had assured Arthur of that many times. 

 

“I can look after him.” Mithian offered, but Merlin shook his head.

 

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll stay.” He turned towards her. “Thank you. For your help.”

 

“I did nothing.”

 

“You made me realize what I was meant to do and stopped me from making a terrible mistake.” Merlin said genuinely. “Thank you.”

 

Mithian leaned forward, placing a kiss against Merlin’s cheek. Then she left, just as Arthur had done not minutes before. 

 

Merlin pulled out a chair from Mordred’s small table and sat himself down, watching the rise and fall of the druid boy’s chest. He could have never guessed that this was how things would go. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. Kilgharrah had made his destiny seem so undeniable- that the only thing he could do to stop it was to kill him. There was no other way, he had said. 

 

But then how did things change? Perhaps changing Mordred’s fate had never been up to him. Perhaps it had been Arthur’s responsibility all along. Arthur had asked Merlin to learn magic- embraced it far more quickly than Merlin, or Mordred, could have ever hoped. In doing so, perhaps Arthur had changed his destiny all together.

 

It was never meant to happen this way, but Merlin was more grateful than anything that it had. Arthur was alive. Mordred was alive. Morgana… he hoped she would find peace, wherever she was. 

 

It was several hours later when Mordred finally awoke. “Merlin?”

 

Merlin blinked, pulling himself out of his own slumber. It had been late when they left to find the dragon, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling asleep on Mordred’s table. 

 

Merlin perked up at the voice however, the sleep leaving him immediately. “Mordred!”

 

“What are you doing here?” Mordred asked, clearly confused.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” Merlin leaned forward in the chair.

 

Mordred furrowed his eyebrows together, deep in thought. “Yes… No... It’s all kind of blurry. It’s there... but it’s not.” He looked up, eyes darting across the room. “How did I get here?”

 

“Do you remember Alined’s arrival?”

 

Mordred nodded. “Yes. We went to Gaius’s quarters afterwards. You told me to watch Trickler…” He scrunched his eyes shut. “He was acting odd, and I was following him. That’s when everything gets fuzzy.”

 

“Mordred.” Merlin said gently. “That was weeks ago.”

 

His eyes widened. “What?”

 

“Trickler placed you under an enchantment. To make you hate Arthur- to make you want to kill him.” Merlin explained, and Mordred instantly looked alarmed. “He’s fine. You didn’t succeed. It just took us a while to figure out who was responsible. We assumed it was Alined, but we never saw Trickler doing anything suspicious. Now we know he just had you doing his dirty work.”

 

Mordred looked down, shame clearly burning through him. “Merlin… I’m sorry.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Merlin said easily. “Alined’s been arrested, along with Trickler and the rest of his men. I’m not sure what Arthur intends to do with them yet. I promised Trickler I would keep him safe from Alined if he helped me, but to be fair, he wasn’t exactly of much help.”

 

Mordred looked back up. “Did you get him to lift the enchantment?”

 

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “He said it couldn’t be lifted.”

 

“Then how…”

 

“Kilgharrah lifted the enchantment.”

 

Mordred’s eyebrows rose. “The dragon? I… I thought he hated me?”

 

“Oh, he does.” Merlin winced slightly as the words came out of his mouth. “Sorry. It’s just- he wanted us to kill you, but we convinced him lend a hand.” Mordred looked skeptical of this, but didn’t question it. “You should know…” Merlin began again, hesitating… “Arthur knows now… about the prophecy. Kilgharrah sort of mentioned it.”

 

Mordred looked absolutely devastated. “I didn’t want him to know.” He said, in a quiet voice. 

 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Merlin sighed. “Arthur doesn’t care. He’s never really been one for prophecies anyways. He knows you’re loyal to him, and that’s all that matters.” He attempted to reassure the boy, knowing he was surely failing. “Arthur will want to talk to you I imagine, but I doubt he’ll even bring it up. And if he does, it’ll just be to tell you it doesn’t matter.”

 

“I tried to kill him.”

 

“Your mind wasn’t your own. He knows that.”

 

“But it’s like you said. The prophecy states that I’m supposed to kill Arthur, and that’s exactly what I tried to do. I tried to kill him. I was under an enchantment, but still.” Mordred clenched his eyes shut. “What if… what if there is no out running this? What if I can’t stop it?”

 

“Then I’ll just have to make sure I’m there to stop you.” Merlin said after a moment. “But I think this was it, Mordred. Destiny tried, and it failed. I think… I think it’s finished.”

 

“Once and for all.” Mordred murmured.

 

Once and for all, indeed. Arthur Pendragon was saved, and so was Mordred.

 

In return for his life, Alined was forced to sign whatever peace treaty the rest of the monarchs had agreed on. He couldn’t add anything or state his own opinion on the matter. If he refused to sign, he would be executed. It was better than he probably deserved, but it was something. 

 

Olaf had agreed to let Trickler seek refuge in his own kingdom under the condition that the jester lifted the love spell off of Vivian the moment they arrived. Trickler was quick to agree, wanting to stay as far away from Alined as possible. The king would be less than forgiving after Trickler’s ‘betrayal’.

 

Lot, much to Merlin’s surprise, never said anything about the hasty accusations made against his person, and he seemed uninterested in his apologies. The man was still as much of a mystery to Merlin now than he was when he first arrived in Camelot. A wild card indeed.

 

In the end, after much discussion, nearly every kingdom agreed to allow magic back within their borders. Alined, of course, had been given no choice in the matter. Godwin was the only one who refused to budge. It wasn’t too surprising- he had always been a close ally of Uther’s. It only made sense that Godwin would share his beliefs. He did, however, agree to remove the death penalty. Banishment would certainly replace it, but with so many kingdoms now welcoming their kind, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. It was a step in the right direction. Perhaps, in time, the title of ‘crime’ for magic would fade away entirely. 

 

“I believe that concludes our talks.” Arthur said, addressing the monarchs at the table. “Are there any matters that should be discussed before the court is dismissed?”

 

“There is one announcement that must be made. It might as well be done here, since we’re all gathered.” It was Rodor who spoke up, looking less than pleased with whatever it was he was going to say. 

 

“Of course.” Arthur nodded towards the other king.”

 

Rodor sighed. “My daughter has given up her claim to the throne of Nemeth. My late brother’s son, Peter, will take the throne in her stead.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he looked immediately towards Mithian, who refused to even acknowledge his presence. No. No. No. She didn’t do this. She couldn’t have done this. It was a mistake. A misunderstanding. No. No. No. No. No. What was she doing?  _ What was she doing? _

 

There wasn’t anyone at the table who wasn’t shocked by Rodor’s proclamation. Arthur’s mouth remained open for several seconds before he shook himself back into reality. “I see…” No. No, he didn’t see. No one did. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We would be honored to meet your new heir at the earliest opportunity.” He turned back to the rest of the group, seemingly still processing what he had just heard. “If there is nothing else?” No one spoke. “Very well. This council is dismissed, and these talks concluded.”

 

Merlin bolted out of the room, not even bothering to give Arthur a single glance. “Mithian!”

 

The hallway to Mithian’s chambers was, fortunately, empty. She turned around to face Merlin, looking very reluctant to do so. Still, she held her head high as he approached her.

 

“What have you done?”

 

“What I wish.” Mithian said simply, offering no practical explanation.

 

“Y-You can’t.”

 

“I can, and I have.”

 

“ _ Mithian _ .” Merlin pleaded. “If you go back to your father now- it’s not too late. He’ll take you back. He must.”

 

“I haven’t been disowned, Merlin.” She said, as if that made everything so much better.

 

“No.” Merlin said with fake nonchalance. “You merely gave up everything of importance in your life.”

 

“No, not everything.”

 

“I- I don’t understand.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair. “Why would you do this?”

 

“You said it yourself.” She took a step forward until they were mere inches apart. “Nothing could ever happen between us- not while Arthur needs you, and not while I have a throne waiting for me.”

 

“Mithian…” Merlin whispered, horrified. “You- You…”

 

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

 

The order startled Merlin. It was hardly what he was expecting. “What?”

 

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I will walk straight back to my father and beg his forgiveness.”

 

“I…” Merlin tried to speak, but the words were lodged in his throat.

 

“Say it.” She demanded. “Say it, and I’ll let you go.”

 

Merlin stared at her for several seconds before closing his eyes. “I can’t.”

 

Mithian only smiled. “Then how can you expect me to leave?” Merlin shook his head, but she reached up to still his movements. “I’ve made my choice, and I’m not going to leave you.”

 

“Your throne…” Merlin choked out. “Your crown-”

 

“Mean nothing to me without you.”

 

“Don’t.” He begged. “Don’t do this for me. Please.”

 

“No, not for you.” Mithian said gently. “For me. This is for me.”

 

Merlin surged forward, pressing his lips against hers. His hands grabbed onto her waist, and, after a moment, he pulled back ever so slightly. “You’re making a mistake.”

 

He could feel her breath against him as she spoke. “Let’s make it a good one, then.”

 

Merlin smiled again her, leaning back in. This was wrong. This was so wrong. But Merlin couldn’t bring himself to be upset- not anymore. He had given up so much for Arthur. He had lost so many people he cared for. Merlin could have this one thing. Just this once, he would be selfish. 

 

It was that same night when Mithian ended up in Arthur’s chambers. Both she and Arthur were sat her his table. Gwen was on the bed, stroking Aithusa, and Merlin was in the background as he always was. 

 

“I must apologize, Arthur.” Mithian began. “I should have asked your permission before inviting myself to stay.”

 

“You are always welcome in Camelot.” Arthur said in response, and Merlin was fairly certain he meant it. It wasn’t a fake, political smile on his face. Despite their past, Arthur seemed to genuinely like Mithian, and Gwen had no issue with her staying either. “But I have to ask. Why?” Arthur leaned back in his chair. “I know Camelot is a beautiful kingdom- I know that better than anyone- but to give up your throne?”

 

“I admit there are other reasons for me wishing to stay.”

 

“May I ask what they are?”

 

Mithian paused. “When you broke off our engagement to marry a blacksmith’s daughter, I told you I would give up my own kingdom to be so love. And that is what I have done.”

 

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “There’s someone in Camelot then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Might I ask who?”

 

Mithian smiled politely. “I think it would be for the best if he came to you. In his own time.”

 

“Of course.” Arthur nodded. “So it’s someone I know then?”

 

“ _ Arthur _ …” Gwen chided. 

 

“What?” Arthur glanced back towards her. “I’m curious. Must be quite a man, for you to give up so much.”

 

Mithian looked very briefly in Merlin’s direction, something only Gwen seemed to notice. “I like to think so.”

 

“Well.” Arthur continued. “I’m glad you’ve found someone. I always disliked the way things ended between us.”

 

“As did I.” Mithian agreed. “But I understand now. Guinevere is a wonderful queen, and it is obvious for anyone to see how much you love her. I am glad you two were able to find such happiness.”

 

“I appreciate that.” Arthur said genuinely. “And I wish you luck with your own endeavors.”

 

Mithian left Arthur’s chambers not long after, Gwen leaving with her. This late in her pregnancy, moving around was becoming more and more difficult. Despite that, Gaius had said it was good for her and the baby to keep active, so she liked to take short walks around the castle. It wasn’t uncommon for Mithian to join her for those.

 

Arthur took a sip of his wine, glancing at Merlin. “Do you know who it is?”

 

Merlin didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes.”

 

“Who?” Arthur looked up, but Merlin said nothing. “You don’t wish to break her confidentiality. I understand.”

 

“Arthur…” Merlin began, sitting down across from his king. “He… He wants you to know, but he isn’t quite sure how you’ll react. Or rather, he knows exactly how you’re going to react, and he really isn’t looking forward to it.”

 

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Why?”

 

“A princess is a bit above him.” That was an understatement if there ever was one. “You would not think him worthy of her. You might even try to convince her to change her mind.”

 

“This is Mithian’s choice.” Arthur reasoned. “If she wishes to give up her throne, that doesn’t concern me.”

 

“He also doesn’t wish to shame her. If people knew she was…” Not only was he a servant, but he had magic as well. Just because the ban was lifted didn’t mean people wouldn’t still look at him like he was a monster. He had gotten used to ignoring it at that point, but for Mithian to be associated with him like that…

 

What if someone accused him of enchanting her? It was far more believable than the truth.

 

“It can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.” Arthur looked up, as if a thought had just popped into his head. “It’s Mordred isn’t it? They’ve spent some time together these last few weeks.”

 

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. “He spent half that time enchanted.”

 

“But before then.” Arthur backtracked. “He thinks him having magic will look poorly on her?”

 

Well. He was half right. “It isn’t Mordred.”

 

“As far as I can tell, she hasn’t been spending any time with anyone else beside you.” Even as he said the sentence, Arthur didn’t realize what it meant. He was a great king and a brilliant strategist, but sometimes… sometimes he was a bit thick. 

 

“Exactly.” Merlin said slowly, as if talking to a child.

 

“What…” Arthur said, then stopped. “You… It’s you.”

 

Merlin closed his eyes. “I tried to convince her to change her mind. I had no idea she was going to give up her throne until everyone else did.” He looked up, forcing himself to make eye contact with the king. “I get it, alright? I’m a servant. She’s a princess. I have magic. Her father barely tolerates it. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. It did, and she won’t change her mind no matter what you say, so there’s no point in you even trying.”

 

“Why would you assume I would?”

 

“Last time she was here, it was to marry a king. Now she’s supposed to be content with a servant? If anyone finds out…”

 

“It’s not like you’re going to be a servant for much longer.”

 

Now it was Merlin’s turn to be confused. “What?’

 

“Why do you think I’ve had George take over most of your responsibilities?”

 

“Residual anger from me keeping secrets from you?” His tone was far lighter than he actually felt. 

 

Because you can’t forgive me. Because you don’t want me around you. Because you’re too frightened of what I might do if you throw me out of the castle. 

 

“No.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now- even before I asked you to learn magic. Gaius is getting old, and soon he will want to retire. We’ve already been discussing it, and believe it or not, you’re the most qualified person I have to fill the position.”

 

“You want me to be Court Physician?” It was probably the last thing Merlin expected Arthur to say. It made sense, he supposed, but it was still a surprise.

 

“That’s why I’ve had you spend most of your day with Gaius.” Arthur explained. “To get you ready to take over for him. Now, I know a princess and a Court Physician isn’t a… normal match either, but I married a servant. Why would I stand in your way?”

 

Merlin didn’t know what to say. “You’re really okay with this then?”

 

“It’s a little strange.” Arthur admitted. “I never really pictured the two of you… together. It’ll take awhile for me to wrap my head around that, but she clearly cares for you. And if you care for her, then there’s no reason to deny you your happiness.”

 

“I do.” Merlin said before he could stop himself, looking down to his hands. “Care for her, I mean. I do.”

 

Arthur stared at him for a moment, saying nothing. “You really like her.”

 

Merlin looked back up at his king. “I love her.”

 

Arthur smiled fondly at the younger man. “Then that’s that.” The king stood from his chair, wine glass still in hand, and began to walk towards his wardrobe. It was getting late. He would be getting dressed for bed soon enough.

 

“Arthur.” Merlin looked up, his eyes following the king as he walked across the room. “Thank you.”

 

“No.” Arthur turned towards him. “Thank  _ you _ . For everything.”

 

Merlin hesitated for just a moment. “I’m sorry. About the book. The dark magic. I was desperate, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

“I can understand that.” Arthur said slowly. “I just don’t want to lose you, and when I saw you with that book…”

 

“I’m sorry.” Merlin said once again.

 

“Just.” Arthur sighed, sitting back down. “Promise me you won’t touch them again.”

 

“I swear, Arthur.” Merlin said quietly. With Mordred on the line, he had nearly fallen down a hole he may have never been able to escape from. He would  _ never  _ do that again.  _ Never. _

 

“Good.” The king smiled, looking genuine.

 

And for the first time in a long time, all truly seemed well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more day boyos


	37. Peace for Our Time

Merlin’s head jerked up as the door to his chambers was flung open. “No, no, no. Don’t come any closer.” Merlin said, holding up a cautious hand. He looked back down to his sleeping patient. “I’m not sure if he’s still contagious or not, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

 

Arthur paused his movements, standing several feet away from the physician. It took him a moment to even notice Mordred sitting next to him. “Does he have…?”

 

“The same sickness that’s been affecting all the others? Yes.” Merlin let out a breath. “He’ll be alright. It took me awhile to find a remedy, but it’ll be passed through the lower town by the end of tomorrow.”

 

Arthur nodded. “Good.”

 

“So what brings you here this late at night?” Merlin stood, taking a step towards Arthur. “You haven’t gotten the sickness, too, have you?”

 

“No, no.” Arthur shook his head. “I can’t find Thomas anywhere. I know he hasn’t left the castle- the guards would have seen him, but he’s not in his chambers or the kitchens or the stables or-”

 

Merlin closed his eyes, letting out a short sigh. “I think I know where he is.” He looked back towards his patient hesitantly. The man would be fine, but if he awoke…

 

“Go.” Mordred said. “I’ll look after him.” 

 

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked. “It’s getting late, and-”

 

“ _ Go _ .” Mordred said again, waving him away. 

 

The druid had become quite good with healing spells in the last few years, helping Merlin out where he could. He was a knight before anything else, but his skills had come in handy more than once. In many ways, his ability with healing spells had surpassed even Merlin’s, but, in all fairness, Merlin had never been very good with them to begin with. Most of the injuries or illnesses he treated, he did so using the skills Gaius had taught him. Sometimes magic helped, but it wasn’t always necessary. 

 

Gaius still helped where he could, but age had been less than kind to him. Thus why Merlin had taken over the position fully six years ago. The older man had been more than happy to let his apprentice take his title. He had been ready to retire and had already taught Merlin everything he knew. It had just been time. 

 

Merlin hesitated before nodding his thanks and leaving the room. “Where’s Gwen?”

 

“Still in our chambers. I didn’t want to worry her.” It didn’t take Arthur long to realize where Thomas was as they approached the entrance to the caves. 

 

“Thomas!” Arthur yelled, more exasperated than actually angry. 

 

The boy blinked awake at the call of his name, his head lying against the white scales of the large dragon who seemed to still be asleep. 

 

“I’ve been looking for you.” Arthur said as he continued to walk towards Thomas. “You can’t just run off like that.”

 

“I’m sorry, father.” The child mumbled, sounding honestly guilty. “I just wanted to visit Aithusa. I never get to see her anymore.” 

 

It was true. Aithusa had taken to flying away from the castle during the day, only to return to the safety of the cave at night. It was hard to believe she was the same mangled creature he had rescued from the Sarrum all those years ago. Three times she had been in his hands, and not a single scar from her captivity remained. In time, her wings and spine had straightened and reformed. Her scales were no longer an off white- regaining the purity they had once had when she was first hatched. Aithusa had grown quite substantially as well- now about a quarter of the size Kilgharrah had been. 

 

Merlin’s heart still ached at the thought of his old friend. It was the only time Kilgharrah had ever spoken in his head after being freed. When the dragon had requested that he come to the open field where he usually called for him, Merlin hadn’t even considered refusing. 

 

Kilgharrah wasn’t sentimental. He never had been. But in time, he had grown to care for the young warlock, and the young warlock for him. Knowing that he was dying, the dragon had called out to him once more, if only to say goodbye. 

 

_ “It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.” _

 

_ “What will I do without you?” _

 

_ “You will remember me.” _

 

Mithian and Kilgharrah had never become close, but she knew how much Merlin cared for him. She knew that, despite everything, Merlin considered Kilgharrah a dear friend. So she had held him when he re-entered the castle with red rimmed eyes and cried into her shoulder. 

 

Merlin had told Arthur, of course, of the Great Dragon’s death, but he hadn’t cared. If it had been Aithusa, the king would have been beside himself. But Kilgharrah? Only Merlin would miss him. 

 

“Thomas.” Arthur crouched down. “You can’t just sleep here in the caves”

 

“Why not?” The child questioned. “Aithusa can.”

 

“Aithusa is not a little boy.”

 

“No.” The dragon agreed. “I am not.” The commotion had clearly woken her from her sleep.

 

“But I miss you.” Thomas pressed his face into her scales, and Aithusa wrapped one of her wings around him. 

 

“I will stay tomorrow, if you wish to play.”

 

Thomas pulled his face back, his eyes lighting up. “All day?”

 

“All day.” Aithusa confirmed. 

 

Merlin had thought that there was no one in the world Aithusa would ever care for above Arthur, but then his child had been born. Merlin had heard of certain breeds of dogs that would become protective of their master’s children, but he didn’t think such a thing happened with dragons as well. 

 

Aithusa had still been a child herself when Thomas was born. In a way, they grew up together. She had even taken to sleeping in his room when she was still small enough to do so.  Any fears Arthur might have had about Aithusa accidently hurting his child were completely unrealized. 

 

Merlin had thought the same thing of himself once. There was no one that would ever come before Arthur. No one. Arthur was his destiny, his king. But then he had held Thomas in his arms. 

 

There had been… concerns… after Thomas was born. Threats. Rumors. Despite magic being allowed in Camelot once more, there were still some who wished the Pendragon line to be ended once and for all. Because of that, for the first few years of Thomas’s life, there were very few people who were allowed to be around the child alone. So a nursemaid coming into to look after him was completely out of the question.

 

Most of the time, either Arthur or Gwen had stayed with him, but there were times where they were both needed. It was then Merlin would care for him. Merlin had been, for all extents and purposes, Thomas’s nursemaid- a fact that Arthur would never let him live down. 

 

There was no question that he would lay down his life for the child, but that wasn’t all that surprising. He’d lay down his life for a lot of people. It was the realization that he would lay down  _ Arthur’s  _ life to protect Thomas that stopped him in his tracks. Thomas may not have been his son, but he might as well have been, as Merlin loved him as such. 

 

“Go.” Aithusa pressed her nose into Thomas. “Or your father will become cross.”

 

Thomas rubbed his hand down her scales once more before running towards his father, and Arthur picked him up into his arms once he was close enough. The child turned towards Merlin, now at eye level with the warlock. “Will you show me a trick?”

 

“It’s time for you to sleep.” Arthur chided.

 

“We’ll be quick! I promise!” Thomas begged, looking back towards Arthur.

 

“Go back to Gwen.” Merlin said, holding out his arms. “I’ll get him to bed.”

 

Arthur reluctantly handed over the child. “Don’t keep him up too late.”

 

“When do I ever?” 

 

The king squinted at him for a moment before giving Aithusa a nod and ran back to his wife. She was likely getting concerned with how long Arthur had been gone. 

 

“Trick?” Thomas asked once more, his eyes wide and hopeful.

 

“When do I ever deny you my tricks?” Merlin carried him back to his room, setting him down on his bed. He grabbed the wooden dragon off the top of the wardrobe and sat down on the bed next to Thomas.

 

It was the same wooden dragon that Balinor had given him all those years ago. The boy had been so mesmerized by it the first time he had seen it, Merlin hadn’t been able to stop himself from handed it over. It had seemed right, in a way. 

 

_ “Bebiede þe arisan cwicum.”  _ The wooden dragon morphed, the wood turning to scales. It wasn’t alive- not really- but it looked like it. Merlin allowed the dragon to crawl off his hand and onto Thomas’s.

 

Thomas gave the dragon a wide smile, but then looked confused. “It’s the wrong color.”

 

“Not all dragons are white.” Merlin corrected. Thomas had no way of knowing that. Aithusa was the only dragon he had ever met after all. “This one looks a bit like another dragon I knew.”

 

Thomas looked up. “You knew another dragon?”

 

“Yes.” Merlin said. “Kilgharrah.”

 

“That’s not a very good name.” Thomas said without missing a beat, and Merlin let out a choked laugh. Oh, the things that old dragon would have said about Arthur’s offspring. 

 

“You prefer Aithusa then?”

 

Thomas nodded. The tiny dragon stretched its wings once more before turning back to wood. 

 

Merlin took the wooden dragon out of his hand and placed it back on the wardrobe. “Time for bed.”

 

“But-”

 

“Nope.” Merlin picked Thomas up once again, laying him back down on the bed so that his head was on the pillows. He pulled the blanket up around the prince’s shoulders, watching the pout of the boy’s lips. “You need to get to sleep if you want to be awake to play with Aithusa tomorrow.”

 

That seemed to be enough to convince the boy as his eyes snapped shut. Merlin only smiled, watching the child that had quickly become his entire life desperately try to fall asleep. 

 

He should go. He should go back to Mordred. It would be cruel to keep him awake any longer. After training, and then helping Merlin make a remedy for the illness sweeping through the town, he had to be exhausted. 

 

Or perhaps he should go to Mithian. She was probably already asleep, however. It sent a pang of regret through him. He’d make a point of seeing her tomorrow. He didn’t get to see Mithian as much as he’d like since becoming Court Physician. When there were no matters to attend to, he would often sleep in Mithian’s chambers. In turn, she would spend many of her days in the physician's quarters, but they simply weren’t made to accommodate a married couple. 

 

Most didn’t know they were married. It had happened a year after Mithian had given up her throne. It was a private affair. Merlin wasn’t even sure if Rodor knew, and he wasn’t inclined to find out. It didn’t matter if anyone else knew, though. They were happy, and that was all that really mattered. 

 

_ “Are you happy?” Arthur asked, leaning against the stone bricks of the turrets.  _

 

_ “Yes.” Merlin said without hesitation. He turned towards his king. “Are you?” _

 

_ “I think I am, Merlin.” He looked across the kingdom, watching the families in the lower town go about their day. “You know, I don’t think we did a half-bad job building this kingdom.” _

 

_ “You could have done it without me.” _

 

_ “Maybe.” Arthur glanced back towards Merlin. “I know there were some rough spots along the way, but I’m glad things turned out the way they did.” _

 

_ “I wouldn’t change a thing.” _

 

_ “Nothing?” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. “Not even-” _

 

_ “No.” Merlin said firmly. If the Sarrum had never happened, he would have never married Mithian. And she had been worth that. She had been worth that and so much more. _

 

_ Arthur lips quirked, obviously catching Merlin’s train of thought. He looked back out towards his kingdom. “There hasn’t been a war in Albion since the peace talks.” _

 

_ “You obviously made a good treaty.” _

 

_ “The treaty was about magic.” Arthur argued, but Merlin shook his head. _

 

_ “It was about you bringing everyone together.” Merlin smiled. “Peace for our time.” _

 

Merlin blinked at the memory. It all flooded back into him- that day on the turrets. For one moment, it had been easy to forget about all their concerns and anxieties. For one moment, it had just been Arthur and Merlin. The king and the warlock. Just like it was always meant to be. 

 

Before Arthur knew of his magic, things had been different. It was hard to think that far back. It was hard to picture a time when Arthur didn’t know him for who he was. When Merlin had to hide day after day. When Uther was king, and his kind slaughtered.

 

But then things had changed. Arthur had accepted him in a way Merlin could never have brought himself to even hope for. Morgana and her army had been defeated. Mordred had been saved. And Thomas had been born. 

 

There was something poetic about the timing of it all. Right when a new Albion was being born, so was Thomas. Merlin couldn’t help but think it was more than a coincidence. It was destiny. It was  _ always  _ destiny. That was something he had learned along time ago. 

 

With a flash of his eyes, the candles were unlit, leaving the room in darkness.

 

“Night Merlin.” The boy murmured right as the warlock turned to leave.

 

“Good night, Thomas.”  Merlin glanced back towards the sleeping boy one last time. There was no outrunning destiny, and just this once, Merlin had no intention of even trying.

 

Peace for our time, indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now. There is actually a sequel in the works, but it's gonna take a hot minute to finish, so I've gone ahead and converted this story into a series. If you wanna know when the story comes out, feel free to subscribe to that. If you're not interested, thanks for coming along. I hope you enjoyed the ride. 
> 
> 'Tis been fun, boyos.


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